Love Through A Lens
by superasia8
Summary: Dan's a poor barman and Phil's a student of photography. Entranced by Dan's punk style and desperate to change his own perfectionism, Phil offers Dan a good payment for modelling. Dan hates perfectionism as it doesn't exist in his eyes but he has no other choice but say yes. After all, he has someone else he needs to take care of except for himself and money isn't that easy to find
1. Chapter 1

**This fic is a part of the Phandom Big Bang 2015, a masive collaboration between writers, betas and artists.**

 **A/N: _This journey lasted definitely much longer than my bus rides from school. Creating this big monster (but with fluffy ears!) took around 4 months of my life. But nothing would happen if not for my amazing team :D_**

 ** _So big thanks to my beta *parttimestoryteller* for standing all those typos I've managed to make, I hope I didn't give you too big headache! Thanks to my artist *surfingpotato* who created this awesome art and despite her busy life, found some time for this child! And I would also like to thank all the mods for the amazing work and the effort they put into PBB, and Gina, my squad leader especially. I'm sure if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be able to post this. Thanks to all of you, it was a really long but nice journey._**

 ** _Make sure to check out Iona's (parttimestoryteller on Tumblr) work, as she also wrote a fic for the PBB ^^_**

 ** _I hope you enjoy reading :)_**

 ** _Massive thanks one last time!_**

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"Can I have another glass of this, please?" Dan looks up to see Joey, the well-known client of the Raspberry Bar. Sitting on the chintzy raspberry-like colour stool which should see a washing machine soon, his eyes are drawn to the wood, glancing up only for a second to show the same despair they always seem to have.

"Yeah, of course," Dan replies and serves the drink swiftly. He makes a mental note to watch out for how much the slouched man drinks that night when he places the glass in front of Joey. He only shows up from time to time but when he does, the till draw grows heavy and Dan can count on good tips. However, Dan doesn't think drowning sorrows in a chemical substance can lead to anything good.

He turns around and brushes sweat off of his forehead before he begins to dry glasses with a cloth.

It's a typical, busy Friday night shift at the Raspberry Bar. The place is much more crowded than usual but it's still as boring as ever here, maybe a bit more boring with no Nessa around. His friend and coworker had been dying for over a month to see a bad zombie movie with her boyfriend, but having a job at a place like Raspberry Bar can complicate your life and Dan knew about it.

Their boss, Michael, an uncompromising and relentless person, would never agree to one of them taking a day off. He would brant about them being lazy or immediately cut some money off of their salary.

Happily for Nessa, Michael had to 'take care of some stuff' as he put it, and the girl could sneak out without any arguments after. Dan didn't have anything against her idea if it wasn't to happen on Friday, the busiest day in whole week. He was sure he would say a simple 'no' and just begin his shift but damn, Nessa had the most effective puppy eyes mode ever and, well, he ended up working alone.

Dan hears the big steel front door open and he looks up. A bunch of laughing guys come in, a few of them with bags over their shoulder, some of them even holding a camera in their hands. They all seem happy; joking around and smiling widely. All besides a blue eyed boy standing at the back of the group.

Dan doesn't mean to, he really doesn't mean to hear the conversation, but the sudden end of the song lets the words drift easily to his ears,

"Dude, brighten up! Remember today is the first day of new you!" a blond guy says to blue eyes, patting him on the back. "We gotta celebrate this moment!" he grins to him and the other only flashes him a weak smile, fidgeting slightly because now he had drawn attention of the whole group.

"Guys, leave Phil be and let's find some seats," a curly brown haired boy quickly cuts in before anyone else does. The group lets go and gets to the last empty table at the bar which stands in the same corner, beside a dim lit lamp.

Shrugging his shoulders, Dan puts the glasses back on their shelf. It's seriously not his business and he wouldn't normally care, but the mysterious 'Phil' guy caught his attention the second he walked through that door. Dan would have like to think more about him, but next customer walks up to the bar and he decides to forget about the boy. It lessens his productivity after all and Dan doesn't want any of the customers to report him. It could cause him a lot of trouble and Dan has already too much hassle with this job.

The group in the corner keeps ordering drinks for around three hours before they slowly start to gather their belongings. They've been the loudest customers today, laughing like crazy and having, what seemed to be, loads of fun.

When the curly haired boy gets up to the bar, Dan has to stop himself from letting out a frustrated grumble. Secretly, he had hoped to talk with the intriguing blue-eyed boy tonight, but perhaps their paths just weren't meant to cross.

"Hi, I'd like to settle the payment," the man gives him a big smile and Dan feels a rush of dread and sweat running down his heavy and baggy blouse he's wearing.

 _What if the boss sees this? Oh no, what if he- wait, he's not here today,_ Dan recalls and lets out a deep breath, the tension in his arms lessening up a bit.

He's always nervous when his boss is around, not only because of who he is, but for the attitude he's shown to Dan from the day he was hired. Michael acts weird around him, like he's jealous of him and other people's attention. It changes even more when they're alone. Michael once tried to ask him out and Dan obviously said 'no' as the age gap between them scares him almost as much as the man himself. Needles to say, Dan is definitely creeped out by him.

"Big traffic today, huh?" the boy chats him up and Dan half shakes, half nods his head.

"You can say that," he shrugs and finally comes up with the whole bill. It's really big but he's not particularly surprised. "You guys just aced an exam?" he jokes, grinning a bit as he looks over the numbers. He can't help but feel a bit disappointed, that his own education ended as quickly as it did.

Dan glances at the boy and immediately shuts his mouth, hoping he didn't go too far with the conversation.

The boy doesn't seem offended though. He just smirks lightly,

"Well, you can say that," Dan laughs at that, loosening up. The boy leans on the counter and stuffs some hair behind his ear, "One of my friends decided to make one big collaboration with people from our course and that's how we're here." he looks a bit tipsy but that's only Dan's opinion. "He also took it on himself to change my friend," the boy exhales deeply, "like he didn't know some things aren't that simple..." he goes quiet and Dan does as well because he can understand this too.

They talk and Dan finds out the boy also likes good old rock bands, like AC/DC and Aerosmith and they both share the same passion for the Wirrow art and love for pizza without cheese. What seems to be even cooler is that the 'Phil' guy has really similar interests as the two which makes Dan even more excited about the idea of meeting him.

"And you just gotta get to know Phil! I'm sure you would hit it off, you'd be like Siamese twins!"

Dan blushes hard at the remark. Just thinking about 'Phil' somehow makes him feel like a giggling teen girl. He glances guiltily at the stares he gets from other waiting customers and he really can't get reported. He clears his throat, hoping the boy gets the hint and won't take his attitude as rude,

"Here's the bill," Dan smiles apologetically and hands the bill along with a small advertising leaflet about the bar. The boy quickly shakes out of his daze and pulls out a galaxy patterned wallet. "Nice design," Dan comments and the boy laughs.

"Cool tattoos," he says in return and Dan mumbles a 'thank you', rolling down the sleeves as he feels a little bit too aware of his own well-being in that moment. The boy sends him a wide grin, "Well, I hope we could hang out sometime, you seem like a cool guy," he says. He dumps the money onto the bar before Dan can even give him the change. Reaching his group of friends, the boy pulls on his backpack and leaves, waving slightly to Dan as they all exit. Dan can make out the curious and questioning look 'Phil' shoots him a few times and he blushes, picking at the strands of his black but bleached blouse.

"Yo, can you finally serve us?" an annoyed man with a shaved head and thick chains around his neck asks, his tone a bit aggressive, and Dan fast gets back to work.

Later, after his shift is over and he counts money in the register, he realizes the boy tipped him a twenty pound note and Dan sucks in a breath, smiling. He closes the bar with a strange fuzzy feeling as he thinks about hanging out with the boy or 'Phil'. Maybe they could really 'hit it off'? Maybe they could become frie-

Dan stops abruptly in his tracks, looking around to remind himself he's all alone on the street on this scruffy side of London. He shakes his head at the faint flashes of his father's voice, at his angry, accusable screams that grew smaller and smaller as he slammed the doors of the place he called 'home' for 15 years, and left with no intention of ever going back.

Dan still remembers how certain he was that living on his own would be problem-free. And how in the beginning it was. With the money he had saved, it wasn't much different than regular life, perhaps with small differences like constant uncertainty. But when he started running low on everything, food and rent money especially, he understood that everything was only going to go down from there. And with the next shut doors at his face as he asked about a job and another spent night under a piece of cardboard where he would rather watch out for psychos lurking in the dark than sleep, Dan finally understood how harsh life is.

He starts his walk again, his breath creating puffs in the cold June air.

He curses as he steps onto a sharp object and only prays it doesn't make another hole in his worn out soles. He knows though that he can do nothing about his shoes which are literally falling apart. He balls his fists as he holds back a sarcastic comment he'd surely make if the situation happened not now but a year ago. Depending on what you experience in your life, your perception and character change. Dan doesn't argue with that thought as he heads into the direction of his new home.

The boy tries not to think about how awesome it would be to feel normal again, and simply hang out with someone, but his mind knocks the idea out of his mind with a good effect,

 _Time to get back to reality,_ _ **Daniel.**_ _Life isn't filled with rainbows and flying kittens. You can only count on yourself. No one's gonna be there to save you. So grow up,_ _ **boy**_ _._

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 _ **Comments are the best way a reader can shout into a writer's face their opinion. Either way, they will make me extremely happy :3**_


	2. Chapter 2

He stares through the dark liquid, but sees nothing. The drink stays untouched in front of him, but it doesn't bother him. It's not like he's going to drink anyway. The only reason he came here was because of his stupid friends.

 _'Today is the first day of new you!',_ Phil snorts remembering Brandon's words which made him look like a total fool in front of all of his classmates. The blonde is lucky enough Phil agreed to being dragged here. He could at least shut his mouth and not mention a word about their _deal_. Now though, his whole class knows about the ' _not perfect_ idea', as Brandon called it.

Phil doesn't even know why he agreed on it. He'd say it was just because of how ridicolous the idea sounded he didn't really think Brandon was being serious about it. But here he was, in a bar, after having promised his friend to be _'less perfect and more like an actual human his age'_. He's supposed to socialise more, go on parties, drink and do all of those things that he feels aren't that necessary in his life. But Phil isn't the one to let go. As he said 'yes' to the silly bet he made with Brandon and the blond told him he actually meant it, Phil knew he wasn't going to lose. No, he's going to prove Brandon he's not a perfectionist, but most of all, he is not going to lose.

PJ nudges him and Phil spares him a glance,

"What," he growls, fully aware of how rude he sounds, however right now he doesn't care. He doesn't care because the same person who's sitting next to him now and giving him a look full of worry made him to agree on this foolish 'not perfect idea' thing. No matter how they would name it; 'rainbow thing', 'happy thing', Phil would still be showing no approval.

"Are you okay?" His friend's face is laced with concern and Phil rolls his eyes, "Are you angry?", PJ whispers to him and Phil shoots him a dirty look.

 _Angry_ is far from what he's now. He's freaking _furious._

"Phil, we can get out of here any second, you know it. Nothing and no one's keeping you here, but yourself," PJ reminds him but he doesn't need to. Phil knows he doesn't owe it to PJ to stay if he doesn't want to and he knows his friend wouldn't be especially upset if he left now. It wouldn't be the first time Phil had left before anyone had finished their first glass.

This time though, it's different.

He curses at himself as he knows that this time, he's not going to back away. Because there's _something_ keeping him here. It may sound stupid, but he can feel this invisible force, he can almost hear this whisper on the verge of silence coaxing him to stay.

"You know," PJ says, turning to him as he takes a sip of his beer, "I'd understand if you left now. I know how hard it is for you-"

"I am _fine_ , PJ," Phil quickly cuts in, not letting him finish. The curly haired raises his eyebrow at him and to prove his point, Phil takes a sip of his whiskey and coke, the taste a bit bitter as if it's forgotten, bringing back old, very old memories.

PJ stares at him in shock for a brief moment before he questions, his words spoken in a hurry,

"Are you sure, Phil? This is not any kind of a comeback or anything? You're not planning on doing anything stupid, are you?", PJ's face is well lit and Phil can read his expression like an open book. It's fear mixed with worry and shock. His eyes are big like orbs and Phil's not surprised. It must be a shock, seeing his friend reaching out for alcohol after two years of abstinence and a hundred repeats of 'I am done with alcohol, PJ, you should know that better than anyone'.

Phil flashes him a smile, taking another sip. The liquid flows down his throat and he soon feels the familiar tingling in his stomach, making him feel warm inside.

He should have warned PJ about this to spare him the shock, but the decision he made was spontaneous. After all those talks with specialists, who were telling him to let go and forgive himself, all those talks with PJ about letting himself live normally, Phil thinks that maybe they're right. Maybe he should leave it, stop thinking about that day and finally start living _his own_ life.

Forget about all the obligations he feels he's supposed to meet, forget about what the world expects him to be and start being himself and create his own expectations as for himself. Sounds nice and easy but Phil, being a realist, knows it's gonna be the exact opposite. However, he's ready to take that fight and try to succeed.

The evening flies by rather quickly, time spent in telling fail stories or stupid jokes which even make Chris flustered.

The atmosphere is light, that is until one of the people gathered round the small table blurts out, the self confidence probably given by alcohol,

"What's with the 'not perfect idea', Phil? I know about how you want to change, but where the hell did all that 'perfectionism' come from?", he makes quotation marks in the air and Phil takes in a deep breath.

He quickly opts for his drink, sipping for a few seconds as he feels ten guys' stares on himself. He sets the stein carefully onto the table, trying to gain some time and think of a credible story about how his quirk happened. But before he can stammer out a word, PJ starts a long, sincere sounding story about how Phil in his early teen years wanted to be a magician and thought magic existed, so he believed everything could be done perfectly.

The story is interesting and complicated enough for their companions to forget what the question was about. Hell, by the end of the story no one even realises there was a question at all and Phil lets out a long held breath. He can always count on PJ, the best storyteller he's ever met and the most devoted friend of his. Along with his other friend Chris, who as soon as PJ finishes his made up story, offers a drinking contest, much to everyone's excitement.

"Thanks, guys," he whispers to PJ and Chris once the contest is over and everyone else is busy with a talk over a new project.

PJ nods and Chris grins widely to him, not forgetting about being Chris,

"Always at your service, sir," he bows theatrically and Phil rolls his eyes.

"You're drunk, Chris."

"Not as much as I could be," he winks to him and Phil's about to reply back, but his ears catch the on-going conversation.

"Have you thought already about what to do for this new project Mr Takkyo assigned our class?" some guy, probably Patrick, asks the group.

"No, why do you ask? Do you know something about it?", Brandon questions, trying to fake ignorance, but Phil knows him well enough to know that his friend is very interested in what the brunet knows.

"Well," the guy straightens up, smiling as he noticed he gained the attention of the group, "I've heard from Milly-"

"Milly, that hot chick from Art degree?" some voice asks and Phil can't navigate it as someone else shushes him right away and other two start whispering quietly to each other, trying to remember what Milly looks like.

"She's not that hot, let's be honest here," someone else mutters under their breath but another person catches their little comment.

"Woah, woah, Milly? Not hot? Seriously?" a guy wearing black heavy glasses and stylish blue shirt replies, eyes scrunched in disbelief.

"Dude, do you even have eyes? She has all the curves in the right places," another guy cuts in, motioning with his hands exactly what he has on his mind.

"Well, I'd give her a strong five, but that's all."

"He's right," another person chimes in, nodding along to the words.

Phil sighs, closing his eyes. He feels like a teacher around at least ten five year-olds. He also hates he's the one who needs to bring the conversation back onto right track, but more he hates how much pleasure it will give Patrick,

"Okay, so what's with the project?" he wishes he could feign irritation, but this time it's real. The guy is a walking call for attention, always waiting for someone to notice him.

The group goes silent, waiting for some more information. Patrick eyes them, his stare staying longer on Phil's face. He leans forward as though he's telling a secret which can't be heard by anyone else.

"Supposedly Milly had the honour of having a talk with our dear professor about her texting problems," someone snorts and Phil needs to watch himself not to growl. The amount of disrespect in Patrick's voice makes Phil want to punch him in the face. Like, really hard. Probably to break his nose too, if he was lucky, "And guess what," Patrick makes a theatrical pause here, the tension around the group almost visible. But no one dares to speak.

The silence seems to stretch out in centuries. Phil pictures everyone's focused and intrigued expressions as more funny than interested. They would make a good picture with a title, 'Where are my pants?'. Phil laughs silently to himself for a second before Brandon speaks up, his voice tense,

"Stop it, Patrick, just tell us. What did you find out?" the guy flashes him a smile full of domination and power. He's visibly happy with the group's reaction.

"Milly said she accidentally stumbled upon some papers when Mr Takkyo was busy with something. And she said," he lowers his voice even more and Phil wonders what the guy is even doing in a Photography major when at every step he's showing his acting skills, "it's possible that a person with best photos will have a chance for a seniority in one of the best photographing studios in New York," he finishes with a satisfaction written over his face as everyone sinks deep in their thoughts.

Phil closes his eyes and tilts his head as he presses his lips together. He wonders why Patrick even tells them about it, isn't it like the opposite of what anyone would do in a situation like this? Shouldn't he take that advantage and keep the information to himself?

Something was wrong about this, Phil thought, but then again, maybe it was because of all the alcohol the group had today, making them more courageous, thinking less, doing more.

He thinks also about how it's everyone's dream to get a seniority, not to mention, _in one of the best photographing studios_ , and not to mention too, _in a freaking New York City._ But then he imagines a fight about that place. It'd be literally a fight to death. Everyone he knows that goes to his Uni has high ambitions. And Phil, being one of the very few students consistently getting firsts, knows he's not going to risk for that chance to slip through his fingers, oh no. He's going to fight to the end, even if it means unconventional behaviour and taking Patrick at his word.

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 _ **Gimme your opinion, it's the best :3**_


	3. Chapter 3

Small droplets dance on the glassy surface as Dan fills a glass with beer. The music is loud, too loud to Dan's distatate. His neighbor was kind enough to bang on their godamn door for the entire night. Dan's pissed, he must confess, from not getting any sleep, but there's no way his attitude and face could ever show it.

Dan's a hell of an actor, he's sure, and no one would be able to read off of his face a feature as simple as fatigue.

"Hey, my little boy!" a hand tickles his side and Dan squirms. He manages not to let go of the glass in the last second and sighs in relief.

He places the glass in front of Joey and turns towards a twenty three year old girl with red hair. She's wearing a black mini and a white shirt which exposes her curves. Dan witholds from rolling his eyes as the woman hugs him tightly to her chest.

"You're sooo, sooo good, Dan," she mutters, and he can feel her raspberry perfume in the mass of red-dyed hair which nearly makes him vomit. He hates the place and little details like those free samples of perfumes Micheal gives both of them. "You just have no idea how grateful I am for ya," she leans away to look him in the eyes, her own sunk in memories, "Thanks to you I had the best night ever since..." she pauses, clearly in thought and Dan grins as he retorts,

"Since you and Rich first got together?"

"Shut up, Danny boy," the girl smiles as she nudges him lightly, "I'm only trying to show you my grattitude, and you always gotta cut in. Can't you just be happy that I'm happy?"

The boy uneasily but succesfully tears away from her death grip,

"Nessa, I get it, you're grateful, really grateful," the girl winks and Dan has to stop himself from laughing. "But you left me yesterday," he spurts out, frustration evident in his tone.

"Oh, what got into ya, Danny?", Vanessa furrows her brows. Dan had done it for her in the past, so what was the problem? She leans on the counter, thinking about what could have unnerved her friend that much.

"Nothing, and stop calling me Danny," he says, not pausing to take a breath. "It was Friday and I could barely keep the pace, there were godamn thousands of people!" he finishes, emphasising his words with a wide motion of his thin tattooed arms.

"But you agreed-"

"Yes, I did but I nearly served everyone and-"

"Seriously, Dan," the girl cuts in, not bothered by the anger flooding from the brown haired boy nor his clenched teeth, "What's going on? You haven't looked that stressed since a really long time and when I say, a really long time, I mean it," she lowers her voice, searching for his eyes, but he avoids her. "I'm worried about you," at that Dan lets out a deep breath.

He laughs sadly and rubs at his stinging eyes,

"I'm fine, Nessa," he doesn't look her in the eyes though, and the girl knows something's up.

"Okay, if you say so..." she casts him a glance and sighs, "I'm gonna get the beer, we'll talk later, 'kay?" Vanessa asks as she's half way out the staff door. Dan merely nods. "Okay...", she whispers, disappointment painting her voice, and she closes the door silently.

Dan doesn't exactly want to 'talk later'. It's crazy when he says it, but he isn't willing to spill his worries to her. Nessa's his friend, yeah, she might be one, but Dan doesn't trust anyone. He can't because he's known people who he took as his friends but when his life started to break down, when the little, trivial, and what should be stupid parts of the life were missing, the people he called 'friends' completely turned their backs on him.

They gave him stupid excuses, like that police would question them later or they'd have trouble if anyone saw them with him. But Dan knew then. Knew that those people weren't his real friends. And he promised himself then he would never ever trust anybody so much with his life he'd rely on a person. Dan couldn't make any mistakes, he was aware of it, and he wasn't going to make any. That's why trusting people became one of the many points on the list of 'what not to do'.

Someone pushes the front door open but Dan doesn't even look up. He's dreaming of a cup of _godamn coffee_ to clear his mind and wake him up. He only has to finish his shift and he'll be able to lay on his hard, uncomfortable bed. Although it'll be a shitty rest, at least it'll be rest.

"Hey," greets a silvery voice.

"Hi, what can I get..." Dan stumbles over his words as he looks up, but quickly shakes off the surprise, "for you?", he clears his throat, praying that his cheeks aren't already red as he glances at the 'Phil' guy from under his lashes.

No, he's definitely not just crushing on this guy, nope, he's straight and the guy may be super hot, but Dan's just not gay.

Although his pale, soft skin contrasting with the blackness of his fringe and his ocean-like eyes you could drown yourself into makes him attractive, still no. Dan's definitely not liking the guy's appearance. Phil's look is flawless and he looks alike angel and, oh god, he's looking at him with those ice blue eyes and Dan understands what wobbling legs mean.

"Can you offer me something good?" Phil asks, and Dan grips the counter tightly as not to fall. The guy stares at him and Dan wonders if he has something on his face, or if the second he had admired the guy had accidentally turned into infinity.

Phil clears his throat and Dan realises he's been staring. He shakes his head as if trying to get rid of a really good dream, the kind you can't forget for entire weeks.

"Well, we have…", he coughs to bring himself back to the true world, "We have a big offer, for example, the…", Dan spares him one glance, but it's enough to make his tongue get stuck in his throat. 'Phil' eyes him expectantly and Dan shakes his head, feeling like a total creep. He breaks the eye contact which lets him gather his thoughts better, "I think you would really like Kraken."

"You know what, fine. I'll try it," the guy decides, and relief washes over Dan as he laughs lightly,

"That's," he notices Nessa at the edge of his vision and he ponders when the hell did that girl come back, "that's a really good choice", Dan spurts out.

"I've no idea, I just really liked the octopus on the label," admits Phil and Dan snorts with laughter. He turns to the shelf, feeling less awkard but still being embarrassed because of his behavior.

His cheeks hot, he tries not to think much about the wide smile Nessa gives him all the time as he selects the spirit glass from the shelf. He scoops the ice into the glass and when his hand shakes slightly, Dan wonders how can he be any more like a teenage girl in that moment. It feels stupid for Dan to be reacting in such way, but he can't really stop it.

If he doesn't feel this attraction toward the black-haired, then maybe he'll be able to work normally, Dan thinks as he finishes the drink, asking the 'Phil', who's staring at him intently, (did nobody tell him that's the least of rude?), if he wants fresh lime in his drink.

Pushing the cocktail toward the raven boy and drying his hands off on his apron, Dan's determined to avoid more embarrassment. And so he quickly gets a box with empty beer bottles and walks out through the staff door. He nearly hears Nessa roll her eyes, but right now he doesn't care. He puts the box onto a pile of other similar boxes and crouches, hugging his head.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he says again and again. Dan shakes his head.

He blames the exhaustion and stress for the butterflies he feels whenever 'Phil' looked at him. It's stupid because he doesn't even know the guy's name for sure and has no idea who he is. He kicks himself for being attracted to the guy. His feelings are only based on a physical attraction, and Dan is angry at himself for it.

The door flings open and Nessa appears in the doorway,

"Dan? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm _fine_ ," he replies sharply, too quickly for his answer to be honest.

"Alright then..." she says and backs into the bar. Dan hides his head in his hands but she comes in once again, "Just don't take too long. Michael might come in any second and-"

"Just give me a minute," Dan holds his hand in an almost pleading gesture and Nessa nods before she leaves the room.

Dan breathes out deeply, massaging his temples. He senses a big headache coming but that's the least of his problems now. The main one being, why the heck did he feel this way towards the boy? Out of all the humans, why this boy? Dan's not gay, he's dated girls in high school, and he's never thought about men in that way, so why now?

He doesn't find an answer when he hastily steps out of the stock room, his shift half way finished. He's sure if he can survive those few hours without passing out and get some good sleep, he'll forget about the damn 'Phil' and stop being a real pain in the ass around Nessa.

 _It's the sleep deprivation,_ he keeps repeating to himself.

* * *

 ** _I've survived a fire alarm at my cinema today so I feel kinda invulnerable, however a review is always lovely ;)_**

 ** _(ps. nothing serious, the fire system must have crashed & I'm nearly 100% sure there was no fire at all)_**


	4. Chapter 4

He taps his fingers against the wood anxiously, remembering the talk with his professor he had two days earlier.

 _"Philip? I'd like to talk to you about something," Mr. Takkyo said just after the lecture ended. Phil gathered his books and quickly walked up to the older man, trying to remember if he didn't forget to give in pictures lately. He didn't recall such a thing though, so he was even more dreading whatever Mr. Takkyo wanted to talk about with him._

 _"I want you to look at something, okay?" Phil nodded and the man opened some catalogue. He narrowed his eyes. It read_ Philip Lester. _It was his own catalogue._

 _"I, well, I have a problem, Philip. And do you know what it is?" he asked, and Phil only shook his head, having no idea what the man had on mind. He respected him the most, but maybe he was getting a little batty in his old age?_

 _Mr. Takkyo pulled out Phil's works from the catalogue, placing them all on his desk. Phil sensed what could be happening, but he knew it couldn't be because,_

 _"Those aren't plagiarisms, sir, if that's what you're thinking," he explained quickly. He didn't want his professor to accuse him of plagiarism. Phil respected Mr Takkyo and he was a big authority to him. He didn't want to go down in value because of a stupid slander._

 _"Oh son, I know they aren't," Mr. Takkyo smiled, his voice thoughtful. "See, the problem I think there is, is this," he pointed to a picture of a half naked woman. There were no breasts, she was wearing a white material which was hiding the parts which could offend anyone and make it look sexual. The model had nice skin, lots of freckles and red hair. It was for the topic 'Be natural'. Phil didn't understand what was wrong with the picture, as the same professor gave him A for it._

 _Before he could ask any further questions, the professor moved to his next work,_

 _"And this," he showed him a picture of two animals, a small kitten with a snake at least two times larger. The cat was meowing at the snake which was staring at the small ball of fluff as if seeing something so cute for the first time. What Phil loved about it was that, though the snake could without a problem simply eat or kill the kitten, instead it, he chose to protect the kitty. At the end of the session, the cat simply fell asleep in snake's grip. Phil named it 'Genuine power'._

 _The professor picked up another picture, and another, and another one. Phil realised that Mr. Takkyo had shown him all of his works and he furrowed his brows, trying to understand what was wrong about them. The half chinese_ _man stood next to him as Phil went through every single picture yet again. He had really no idea what was wrong with them._

 _"Can you see what's repeating in the every picture, Philip?" Phil wrinkled his forehead, shaking his head. "What keeps appearing in every picture is a word_ perfect _, "he paused, waiting for the words to reach his brain._

 _Wait, so Mr. Takkyo was actually seeing my perfect pictures, as he put it, as bad? What's wrong with perfect?_

 _"But, Mr. Takkyo? I don't exactly understand. What's wrong with those pictures being good?"_

 _The professor laughed then, he actually laughed! Phil had no idea what was going on, he was beyond confused. Did Mr. Takkyo want him to give other students a chance by taking bad pictures? Is that what he meant?_

 _"Listen, I've seen all your photos and they're just perfect. Have you ever even taken a bad photo?" Phil shrugged and Mr. Takkyo laughed. "My point is, I think you should try something else. Maybe picture something that is usually seen as bad and devastating like with that snake? I really liked that concept, son," he smiled warmly and Phil let himself relax. "I think you could change the world with your photographing skills. Use that chance."_

That's a lot for even Phil to take in. Those words mean a lot to him as Mr. Takkyo is a really good photographer himself, having won a few prizes and international contests. Phil respects him for his wisdom and hearing something like that from your mentor? It's like getting into Heaven.

Phil looks around the bar, thinking about Mr. Takkyo's words and the big secret project. Patrick didn't mention it again so he guesses the secret info was out accidentally. Which would only mean it's _real._

He taps his feet as he feels his photographing hunger start to kick in. Phil can't wait till he finds a perfect topic for his portfolio which will get him the superiority in New York. He already has a little thought in his mind as to what it could be, but it's nothing clear and concrete yet.

Thinking about the project, Phil wants it to be entirely different than any of his other photography sessions. He wants it to have its own _feel_ , the kind someone can get when they feel adrenaline pulsing through their veins and all they hear is your blood as the excitement takes over and they're about to do something dangerous and stupid.

He smirks to no one but himself at the thought of something completely new, fresh and _big_ and he imagines the expressions he'll read on his classmates' faces. He can't wait to wipe that stupid smile off of Patrick's face, see him freeze as Phil gets the first prize and-

"Hey, can I get you something?" a friendly red haired bartender asks him and he reminds himself he's in the pub, once again. Phil wonders briefly why he went here one more time, but he guesses it must be the connection he feels toward the place. He can't explain it exactly, he just feels like he's missing something every time he goes here and leaves, as if he forgot about his laundry.

But it's stupid because the place is very new to him, he's never been here as he's no admirer of alcohol. Needles to say, Phil's probably the last person that could be expected to come here. Dragged by friends? Maybe. All by his own consent? That's totally crazy.

 _What if crazy is what I need though?,_ he thinks and smiles at the girl as he orders some rum and cola.

Looking around the room brings him only boredom and a little disappointment. Everything's so damn ordinary it hurts. The bar's crowded, as he expects a place like this to be at this hour. Some people are drinking, others are dancing to the chaotic rock music seeping from the speakers. Waitresses are swerving swiftly between all of them.

 _So typical it hurts,_ he says to himself, _gimme something to work on, go on! There's literally nothing interesting to picture here,_ he complains silently when some guy walks past him.

Phil recognises him immediately as the slightly awkward bar guy he's seen no longer than maybe two nights earlier. He's about to say probably the most awkward 'hi' the world has ever seen, but then he notices something which makes him change his mind.

* * *

Dan quickly takes off his jacket, warming his hands up a bit. The night today's a fucking bitch, he decides, and he wrinkles his forehead as he wonders where the hell from he's going to get all that money he needs. As he counts up the money he gets monthly, it still looks like the house budget is way below zero.

His vision goes black as Nessa hugs him tightly, her red hair and the same scent of perfumes a mash-up of familiarity and the wrong feel of home and routine.

"It's good to see you," she greets him, her worried expression not lessening up even a bit. Dan must admit she'd do good as his mother. He laughs at the idea, but clenches his teeth as he thinks of all the opportunities he'll never be able to have. "So, you okay?" she asks and he slaps himself mentally for not telling her anything yet.

He knows the prospect of making up a life on same lies is a bad one and most possibly not a permanent solution, but what else can he do? He can't bring her even more worries and probably troubles too, right? Having Dan as a friend always seemed problematic to all of his old friends, who slowly became turning their back on him. After all, for how long could he be receiving support from someone and not expect them to grow sick of Dan's 'help me'?

"Dan?" Nessa nudges him and Dan half-consciously nods.

"Am fine, just needed some sleep," he smiles to her and she nods vigorously as she seems to believe him. He leaves his jacket on the coat stand and quickly leaves the stockroom. He grabs his apron on the way and ties it up around his body. He goes to the bar and he visibly frowns as he spots someone he wished he wouldn't see.

 _This damn bastard dared to come back_ , he thinks but deep inside, he knows it's not any of this guy's fault. It's always easier to blame someone other than himself.

To avoid the guy for all costs he practically acts as though he's not there. Dan goes up to Joey, pouring him another glass,

"How's it going?" he chats him up, as casually as he can, but out of the corner of his eye, he keeps glancing at the guy constantly. Dan notices that the guy's hair is unbelievably black, contrastingly to his skin tone which is nearly snow white.

"As good as it can be, you know," Joey rubs the nape at his neck and Dan nods, leaving him to serve next customer.

Dan pours drinks for over ten people before the inevitable comes. He can't be sending this guy to Coventry all the freaking time. He's just another customer, Dan repeats like a mantra, but when he comes closer, his heart begins to quicken its pace.

"Do you want something else?" he asks, peeling his eyes to the wooden bar on purpose. He doesn't look up, he can't look into those eyes because he's afraid he'll start acting like a stupid teenage girl.

"No, thank you," the guy's voice is soft, like silk. And, oh god, Dan's melting.

* * *

"Oh- okay," says the barman, and Phil scrunches his eyes as his instinct tells him something's wrong about the guy. He takes a closer look on the man to realise the guy's most probably feeling really awkward around him. But nah, the thought sounds so ridiculous it's real probably solely in his mind. They've never even met before, so there can't be any reason for the guy to feel uncomfortable around him.

"You have real nice tattoos," Phil blurts out before he can stop himself. The guy's blushing, he's _blushing_ and in Phil's half sober state, it looks adorable. He takes another sip, trying to process what his mind is making up.

When he looks up at the guy though, he nearly drops his glass. Because it's then he has an enormous revelation and everything jumps onto its right place, and all Phil's artistic senses tell him is, _it's a perfect idea_.

Phil glances at the guy's tattooed arms, at his brown fringe, swept to one side. The bartender lifts his head and Phil notes his eyes are chocolate and he has a freaking bottom lip pierced.

"Would you wanna be my model?" the question leaves his mouth far too quick for him to think twice. But the idea is just so perfect he can't miss his chance.

"Uh, excuse me?" the bartender seems dumbfounded and uncomfortable, but can Phil blame him? He probably thinks he's some creep or pervert. Oh gosh, how did that even sound? What proffesional photograph would ask anyone to be their model in such way?

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he quickly corrects himself, grabbing his wallet.

* * *

The 'Phil' guy turns to his pocket and Dan prays he's not going to point gun at him, because he really liked that guy. However, a psychopathic murderer is not the greatest candidate on a boy-

 _On someone, Dan? You're not_ _gay_ _, shake out of it._

"Here," the guy hands him some paper. Dan breathes deeply, thanking God it's not a gun at least. "I'm a photographer, well... I'm still learning but I'm a successful one," the guy says and Dan rolls his eyes,

"You're not one of modestest people, too," he murmurs to himself. The guy shoots him a questioning glance, probably not hearing his words and Dan just shrugs, "I didn't catch your name earlier?"

"It's Phil. Phil Lester," the boy says with pride, and wait, it sounds familiar... Aren't Lesters the family with the big property and tradition in law careers? "And your name is...?"

"Oh, I'm Dan, Just Dan," he furrows his brows as he wonders what the hell can one of the Lesters be doing here, in such a sleazy bar as this one?

He understands, kind of, when the boy explains. Phil wants him to be his model for some super important project his degree has.

Dan understands it. Kind of.

"But why me?" he asks the obvious. He can't help but feel excitement which he tries to shut down.

 _It's probably just a sick joke of a brattish hot rich dick._

"I can't explain it to you, not in one word nor sentence, Daniel," his voice sends shivers through Dan and he looks up, "You simply look like the exact image of what I'm looking for," Phil admits and Dan tries to process the information.

It all makes sense, except one little detail,

"Phil, I appreciate your offer and it's really sweet but creepy of you but I must say no," Phil's face literally falls, his smile disappears and Dan regrets what he said right away. He feels like he just refused to give a small puppy a snack.

"I just," Dan sighs, cursing at Phil's pouty face, "Look, I am no model, Phil, okay?" the guy's face changes into one of confusion, but Dan continues, "I don't have a pretty face or any special look. So I recommend you to go straight to some modelling agency or anything 'cuz they're professionals who'll be able to help you more than I can."

Dan finishes, a little winded. Phil sulks more,

"But I want you to be my model! By the way, models from down there are real rich jerks."

"Jeez, and I thought I was just talking to one, excuse me," Dan murmurs, fully aware the guy can hear him.

Surprisingly though, Phil laughs,

"And you have such a great sense of humour too! I'm impressed!" he says and Dan rolls his eyes. The guy clearly doesn't know how to accept 'no'.

"Yeah, whatever," he shrugs, more amused than irritated by Phil's attitude. Dan grabs a cloth and cleans the bar tenaciously, trying to forget about firm stare Phil gives him all the time.

Phil hums, sipping on his drink for a minute before he lets out something close to a squeak,"

"Look," Phil says, excitement beaming in his eyes as he seems to think he hasn't lost the fight yet. Dan rolls his eyes. No doubt, the man didn't give up on pleading unless someone kicked him out or threatened to call the police. Probably happened a few times in his life.

"You have my card and number," he speaks, standing up from the stool, taking the coat with himself. "I'll come back in a few days so you can have time to think about this, but if you decide earlier, call me, okay?"

Dan shoots Phil a stern glance.

"Okay," he puffs out finally. He wants nothing but get rid of this guy. He can feel his boss's stare from where he's standing and it never means anything good.

Phil places the money along with the card onto the bar, grinning,

"Great! Thanks and see you around!" The guy gives him last glance before he leaves through the front door.

Dan lets out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. He quickly hides the card in his pocket but not quickly enough so he doesn't draw attention of his boss.

A few seconds after Phil walks out, his boss, Michael, angrily bursts in, his face contorted in ominous expression. He quickly steps toward Dan, nearly towering over him. He smiles, but Dan can see the throbbing veins on his neck. Michael is far from friendly now.

"You've got something of mine here?" he nearly spits out as he peeks, attempting to register what Dan was given.

"No, nothing, I swear-"

"I don't believe you."

The brown-haired takes in a breath, trying to refrain from any backtalk. His boss is looming uncomfortably above him and Dan would shrink and hide if only it was possible. He glances between the bar and the door, hopelessly hoping a customer, Nes, a freaking Pope to come in and save him from the talk he feels he has had way too many times.

Michael notices the pure terror on his face and one corner of his lips rises in a victorious smile,

"Shh, my darling," Michael whispers, putting a finger on Dan's lips. The brunet swallows hard, "I catch you one more time, sweetie, and I'm gonna cut you off your pay. " His boss smirks to himself and Dan's stomach drops, "Heavily."

Dan balls his fists despite the mass of remarks he wants to make. He would like to say something about how he didn't even take anything or how freaking low his pay is already and comment on how is he even supposed to feed two people with it, but he knows his boss doesn't give a shit. If Dan is forced to beg on the streets because he runs low on money, his boss is most likely to be the one who calls cops on him.

"Aww, dear Danny, you were the one who agreed on my conditions. Just suck it up and deal with it. It ain't gonna get any better for you," he says and Dan grits his teeth.

The man's right though, it's not like he has any right to complain. If he had a contract, God, if he _could_ have one, in the first place, he would have some rights but, the way he's working? He can only pray that no one reports a surprisingly young person mixing drinks to the nearest police station.

"But you know, Dan…" Michael steps closer, his hand hovering over Dan's cheek and the brunet wants to step back, run away, be elsewhere. Michael's voice suddenly turning soft, he plays with several Dan's brown locks which lost their former shape and Dan wants to run off, "It doesn't have to be like this. You can always say yes… You remember what I told you, right?" Michael asks, leaving Dan's hair alone and his face is so close that Dan's only able to nod, fearful, only briefly knowing what his boss is talking about.

"I can give you more money then. And I don't want much, do I?" he asks, rather rhetorically as Dan has no answer to give. He doesn't want to even consider that _option._ The same thought makes him sick.

Michael suddenly takes one step back, his expression changing. He looks thoughtful, like he's recalling something in his mind. Snapping his fingers, he turns around to Dan, invading his private space once again. He looks him into eyes and Dan's sure he'll never forget that look,

"As long as you're working here, your whole life depends on me, Daniel. Your payment, for that matter, too."

"Fuck off, Michael," comes from his left and Dan doesn't dare to look in Nessa's direction.

Michael only spares her a dirty look.

"That's none of your business, get back to work," the girl almost spits toward him but turns around dutifully, "And you," his boss looks at him again and Dan hopes his legs' shaking isn't that evident, "From now, you're gonna show me some respect or else your tiny payment will feel the results of your disobedience."

Michael leaves as quick as he came.

Dan takes in a deep breath, blinking away the tears that threaten to fall.

"You okay?" asks Nessa.

His throat is so tight he's only able to nod.

* * *

 ** _Hi, if you liked, comment and throw some virtual hearts at me (if you want to). I really appreciate all the support you give me because I know then that you like it, that it's something i should keep writing. And I just really love being hit with hearts, so throw them all you want :)_**


	5. Chapter 5

The dusty floor creaks excruciatingly under his feet, the dark wood dilapidated and looking as if it could collapse any moment. He slowly and carefully takes off his shoes and closes the door in the same manner, eyeing his surroundings nervously.

The room is filled with eerie silence, interrupted only by voices from outside the building. Dogs are barking and people are shouting, but all is peaceful inside. The room he's in is run-down, shadows are happily dancing on the loose oaken floor. Through many cracks on the wall comes light from a nearby streetlamp, although it doesn't give enough light for him to notice the silhouette present in the room.

He takes a few steps up to the small wooden coffee table with too many cigarette burns on it. He places his keys there, grimacing at the metallic clank they make. A click he hears makes him go blind for a second before he realises what it means; the light's on and he's fucked.

He's standing in the weak flickering light with his hands up like a criminal.

"May as well tell you about my presence," a honeyed voice states and Dan closes his eyes to save himself from the coming headache.

 _Can this day get any worse?_

"I thought you were asleep?" he asks innocently. "Didn't want to wake you up," he says, slowly turning around to face the brown-haired girl.

She's sitting on the kitchen counter, her arms and legs crossed as she's giving him her best bitchface. Green eyes bear into his enshadowed posture and Dan shifts his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart-"

"Don't you _dare_ sweetheart me now," the girl says through clenched teeth. He can see she's clearly upset with him. But it's not his fault! Why is everyone all of a sudden attacking him?!

As the girl is about to continue, she stops in mid-sentence when the light illuminates his face,

"You know it doesn't wor- Oh my God, Dan! What happened to your face?!" She comes running to him, but Dan doesn't let her anywhere near him.

He looks down, embarrassed his sister sees him in that state. "It's nothing, really." He licks his lips and grimaces at the taste of his own blood.

The girl peeks an eye at his gash, "Gosh, who did this to you?!" she exclaims, walking up to the dusty small fridge in the open kitchen. She returns with an icepack which she hands him quickly, "Here."

Dan mumbles his thanks as he puts it on his cut. He doesn't speak at first, he's not going to, knowing she expects explanations he's not able to give her.

"What happened?" comes the question he was so sure to hear, yet prayed not to.

Dan takes in a breath, preparing for her next outburst of anger,

"I fell on the escalators, on the tube," he answers, scratching his neck nervously. One look at the girl is enough for him to know she's pretty upset with him. Maybe even more than earlier.

"Are you gonna tell me the truth?" she asks impatiently, tapping her foot against the floor as she crosses her arms.

"I said I fell-"

"Then fine!" she snaps at him and Dan grimaces as the girl stomps out of the room, making sure to slam the door after herself.

Dan curses as he holds the icepack to his lip, following the girl into a small bedroom with one cheap mattress and a nightstand next to it with a Biology book on it. Dan knocks on the doorframe as he waits for any sign that he's welcome. The girl though, says nothing. She's sitting on the bed, staring ahead. Her green eyes are fixed on a poster of her favourite indie rock band as she gives him a clear sign she doesn't want him there.

Sighing, Dan walks into the room, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. He sinks into it as it's far too overused but at least it didn't cost much. The springs poke him as he moves closer to the girl who faces the other way, closed to any kind of conversation,

"Nat... It's fine, okay?" he tries to appease her, creating little circles on her back. "We have roof over our heads, food, water. We're doing pretty darn good."

Natalie only looks over at him, look on her face indicating he only infuriated her,

"Oh yeah?" she spits. "The fridge won't close and everything is half melted. The water has dirt in it somehow, this bed is one hell of a screeching shit and you tell me we're doing pretty darn good?!"

"Natalie, I told you what I think about swearing-" Dan tries to lecture her but the girl shoots him a furious glance as she goes on.

"You," she points out, "keep coming home late and I'm, what, left to wonder if you're even alive?!"

"Nat, it's not like that..." he speaks in a soft voice, trying to calm her down.

Natalie all of a sudden faces him, "Then how is it, huh?" she asks, her tone challenging. Natalie wants to break his calm facade and wants Dan to scream at her. She wants him to finally and once in a godamn time tell her the truth, she expects him to lose his temper and in course of emotions confess to everything he's hiding from her.

From her posture, Dan can tell she's really getting tired of all the crappy reasons and explanations Dan tells her. To Dan, they make sense, everything of it does, when to Natalie, it's only a bundle of lies. Their messed up situation must confuse Natalie and though she wouldn't confess to it, probably scares her too.

Dan only shakes his head as he whispers to her, "I wish it was just that easy, Nat..."

The girl goes quiet for a moment, before she turns around for a second,

"You know what, Dan?" Dan nods at her, waiting for what she has to say. "Sometimes... sometimes I just wish I stayed with dad," she says simply and Dan closes his eyes.

His voice is wavering when he speaks, "You don't, believe me."

Natalie shrugs before she turns around. She brings her knees to her chest,

"Whatever," she mutters, wrapping the blanket around herself.

She falls asleep in a few minutes.

Dan lays on the far side of the mattress, pondering. If Nat knew... if only she knew the things their dad did, maybe she'd understand finally why they're here. But she has no idea and with every day she keeps getting more and more frustrated. Dan is slowly becoming afraid that the lack of knowledge he's keeping her in could cause her to flip out one day.

Getting up slowly, he prays the creaking of the mattress, a fake bed, won't wake his little sister up. Dan walks into the small open kitchen and to the sink, splashing the water on his face. Natalie can't find out about what their dad did. The knowledge could only give her nightmares, as if she didn't have enough of those. She would hate their father, too, that's out of question. And though Dan doesn't mind Natalie detesting their father, he needs to protect her and keep her away from the truth. He can't let his little sister go through a new layer of pain. What happened four years earlier is in the past. And Dan is going to make sure it stays that way. Even if it means lying to Nat.

He dries off his hands on his baggy hoodie, swearing at the miniscule niblets of dirt under his nails. One glance at the nearly closed fridge makes him roll his eyes and he shuts the door. Well, he _tries_ to shut the door because something's blocking it apparently and Dan wonders briefly if it's not the same age of the furniture as if saying, 'let me rest in peace'.

He wouldn't be all that surprised though. Their, so-called, _home_ is merely a bunch of old, _very very old,_ furniture and devices coming from an ice age; a sprawl couch, a black & white telly (which is half way on its road to Heaven), a small table he found on a garage sale, and a pair of plastic, creaky chairs. He could also mention the countertops, a stove (he didn't dare to use it in case an explosion would take place), and the lovely, so aggravating fridge. He could mention them but they practically don't belong to them, already being here before they moved in.

Dan can still remember the word he used back then to describe their new home; _temporary._ He told Natalie they'd live here only until he finds a better job. He promised they wouldn't be staying here for long and in that moment, he himself believed it. Past Dan though, had no idea what the coming future was holding and that soon enough, he'd have problems to make ends meet and they'd be constantly broke.

He still shudders at the memory of the time when they nearly lost their home after he was kicked out of his job and they had no money at all.

For food, for shelter. For anything.

Natalie was so scared then. They really hit the rock bottom.

And for a while, just for a short while, Dan let himself contemplate giving up. He was so defeated when going for his next and the only job interview he could find, that he planned going to the police next if it didn't work and tell them the truth. Which would obviously mean giving up.

At his interview though, he met Michael. The person who, right then, looked in his eyes like a gift from Heaven. An angel who could stop all his worries from crushing him down. He didn't know, no, he _couldn't have known,_ that Michael was everything but a rescue. He couldn't have known that trusting his fake warm smile and telling him about their bad situation would be like adding the last nail into his own coffin.

Dan lets out a breath he didn't realise he's been holding as he runs a hand through his hair. It's been long time since those dark times, but he can't stop himself from thinking, what if he hadn't spilled his worries to Michael, if he hadn't taken that job. He often regrets his choices and decisions and wants to tell his younger self how dumb he was, but he also knows he can do nothing about it now.

He feels hopeless. Dan can do nothing about their bad, drowning situation, but watch and tremble as slowly, but effectively, Michael will wrap him around his finger. He'll push his head under the surface, but never let him take too much water into his lungs.

No, Michael will never let him drown.

He'd rather watch with pleasure as Dan tried to survive, catch as much air only to be then carried into the dark water once again.

Dan shudders. He knows their situation is bad, but his job is not so bad. He can stand somehow all the remarks from his boss, he can stand the bitterness in his voice. He needs this job more than anything and Michael's attitude, albeit not helping him in his work, is not gonna make him leave. He needs money, _they_ need money.

Running a hand through his hair, he leaves the kitchen. He tiptoes to the door but stops in the doorframe. He watches Natalie, laying under a sheer blanket. Oblivious to what danger they can get into if Dan makes one bad move. A fleeting thought that the material is probably not giving her much warmth, if any at all, crosses his mind.

Natalie moves in her sleep and the mattress creaks loudly. Dan holds his breath as if it could create a bigger silence and provide his sister a good night's sleep. Although he's not convinced himself that something like that exists.

 _Not here, of course_ , he says bitterly to himself.

He traces with his eyes the thin, fragile form of his sister. She could use some good, actually nutritional, food. And a few nights of sleep in a comfortable bed.

 _She can't be living like this, Dan_ , a little voice in his mind reminds him.

It's like he doesn't know about this. He's fully aware that girls her age don't normally worry about something as trivial as food or money. It's all parents should be worrying over, but... He's her parent now, it's his job to take care of her and so far, he's pretty crappy at it.

 _She deserves much more,_ the nagging voice whispers to him.

But I'm doing as much as I can! It's the best I can do!

 _Then try harder! Look at her! Is that what any other teenage girl looks like?_

And Dan does look at her. Only then he notices the weary expression she's wearing. Even in her sleep, it's still there. It doesn't soften and only adds years to her face. It makes her look tired and Dan wishes he could do something about it, he wishes he could do more but he has no idea what to do!

Dan leaves the room, going into the kitchen and sitting on one of the countertops. He brings his legs to himself as he looks out the window, staring at nothing particular.

His life is a mess and one pile of crap, but there's at least one thing he's sure of.

He's not gonna let his little sister be affected by any aspect of their new, brutal reality. Natalie doesn't deserve it at all, and, damn, Dan promised her things would be okay! She trusted him enough to walk away with him on that night.

He won't forget how her big eyes stared at him questioningly as they quietly left through a window. He won't forget how confused she looked, how it didn't make any sense to her and, oh God, that one question, _'Why are we leaving, Danny?'._ He doesn't think he'll be ever able to get it out of his head.

Natalie didn't understand why they needed to leave, but instead of asking him loads of questions, which was what probably most of girls her age would do, she followed him with no second thought, trusting that when her older brother said _'We gotta leave now. It's gonna be okay, I promise'_ , he had a plan that couldn't bust.

And as far as he knows, his plan is busting all the time and he's letting his little sister down at every step.

He promised her good life, away from their father.

 _And now_ , he decides, _it's time to fulfil my promise. In half a year I'll be able to quit this stupid job and get a legal one. We'll be finally able to get back on our feet. Until then though, I have to work hard._

* * *

 _ **Please, review, if you liked ^^**_


	6. Chapter 6

Pressed up against a warm body, she snakes an arm over her boyfriend. She snuggles into him, but all her efforts at falling asleep seem not to work. Letting out a huff of frustration, she turns around, staring at the ceiling.

The thing is, Vanessa can't stop thinking about this day. Everything happened so fast, yet so slowly. Michael literally cornered her after her shift was over. He started threatening her, said it'll be best if she stays out of this, whatever 'this' is, it's related somehow to her co-worker, Dan,

 _"Oh, my sweet Nessa!", exclaimed Michael, walking up to her. She only gave him a brief glance before she returned to packing up her bag. It was nearly midnight and not only had she and Dan been forced to stay for an hour longer, but her boss was trying to persecute_ _Dan. For what reason, she had no idea. What she knew though, was that there was something definitely_ _wrong in their relation. Something which she didn't know about._

 _"I can give you a ride, you know," he said, something sinister hiding behind his smile._

 _Nessa only rolled her eyes, "Thanks, but I'll manage on my own,_ dick _," she nearly spat at him. She didn't think she would ever be able to look at the man again and treat him with respect. Not after what she saw today, anyway._

 _She only had to put on her coat and she would be ready to leave, when Michael appeared by her side. She took a step back instinctively, realising she was pressed up against a wall. She swallowed her fear as she stared down at her boss,_

 _"What do you want?"_

 _Michael smirked, probably noticing the dread in her voice,_

 _"I don't want much from you," he said, staring straight into her green eyes. "Well," he paused, posing a deep consideration, "All I want from you, sweetie, is to keep the hell away from our lovely, innocent Dan," he smiled at her again, "and everything is gonna be okay then!"_

 _Michael sat on the nearest empty box, watching her with attention. Nessie took a breath, trying to keep her attitude as much strong and fearless as she only could. She leant over the wall, trying to feign ignorance,_

 _"Why would I?" she asked, lifting her head to add herself some courage._

 _Michael frowned at that, probably not expecting to hear that sort of reply. He pressed his lips together, seemingly contemplating something in his mind before he shot her a fake smile,_

 _"You know, what? I like you. I like your style. Although," he stretched the word as he got up and took one step in her direction, "I wouldn't talk back as you do, because, see..." he made a long pause, taking another step and stopping only when he was an inch_ _from her, "I'm still your boss, Vanessa. And as easily as I gave you this job, I can take it from you."_

 _"You can't," she whispered, feeling small under his stare. "I still have rights and you can't just kick me out only because you don't want me here!" she raised her voice a little, not paying attention to how close they were now._

 _"Here's the deal," Michael said, putting both his hands on the wall, thereby_ _blocking her, "You mind your own business and never comment on whatever happens between me and your cute little friend and," he shrugged, "maybe I'll let you keep your job here"_

 _By the end of his speech, Nessa's breath was fully taken away. She felt as if her throat was clenched so much it would hurt if she spoke. She only swallowed, but said nothing. No way in hell she would ever let this bastard hurt Dan. No way in hell she would do nothing about the abuse._

 _"Clock's ticking," Michael sighed, clearly impatient._

 _Nessa gathered as much bravery as she could and replied, keeping her voice steady and firm, "I'll never agree to that sick deal of you, you horrible bastard."_

 _Something flashed across Michael's face. It was surprise mixed with confusion which quickly turned to anger. Nessa swallowed hardly._

 _"You know, what, you filthy bitch?" he hissed through clenched teeth. "I tried to be a gentleman, but you clearly don't want it!" he yelled and raised his hand. Nessie's breath quickened and she closed her eyes, preparing herself mentally for the hit._

 _"NO!" a familiar voice shouted and she peeked an eye on the situation. What was the first thing she noticed was that Michael was no longer cornering her and that there was a dark figure, trying to wrestle Michael._

 _She thought for a while about Rich. Maybe he came to pick her up, heard the screaming and went inside to check it?_

 _A loud slap roused her from her torpor and her eyes quickly fixed on the figure, half laying, half slouched over the opposite wall. It was Dan._

 _"See what you made me do? See what you did?!" Michael screamed at no one particular before he exited the stack room quickly. "You come at 3 tomorrow, boy. Don't be late," he threw on his way out at Dan who grimaced._

 _Nessie made her way over to her friend quickly, still shocked about what happened. Dan put a hand over his face as she knelt beside him,_

 _"What the hell just happened, Dan?!" she screamed, panic and confusion filling her words. She stared at Dan who kept his gaze fixed on the floor, not meeting her eyes. As she put two and two together, Nessie backed away in shock, "Dan!"_

That son of a bitch!

 _"I'm fine, Nessie. Don't worry, it's not that bad," he said, sensing worry and distress coming from her body._

 _She glanced at his face. His lip was cut, bleeding._

 _"You know what, I'm calling the police," she established, her voice flat of emotions. She still couldn't believe what happened, she_ didn't want _to believe. Different thoughts were going through her mind and she didn't feel like she was ready to comprehend them all. It was simply too much._

 _"No, Nessie, please," Dan begged and she frowned, phone in her hand already._

 _"This needs to stop," she explained, blaming Dan's fear on how people abused in work would try to defend their aggressor._

 _"Don't, please. Don't call the police," his plea catched Nessie's full attention and she stopped herself from clicking the dialling button._

 _"Why not?" she asked, her finger hovering around the button. She narrowed her eyes, wondering why calling the police seemed such a bad option in her co-worker's eyes. "The freak is clearly abusing you!"_

 _"Please, don't," at this point Dan didn't only looked scared, he looked scared shitless._

 _"Why? Why, Dan?" she asked, her worry growing._

 _Dan's eyes were watery as he stared down at his feet for a second before he looked up, "Please, don't?" he merely whispered._

 _"Dan, you have to tell me what's going on," she stated, sitting down next to him. "You have to give me a really good reason why I'm not gonna call cops, because believe me, if it's to protect that asshat, I'm gonna fucking report him," she warned him and Dan laughed bitterly._

 _Nessie tilted her head as she waited for her friend to go on. Dan put his hand back from his bleeding lip as he sniffed,_

 _"It's... it's very complicated," he confessed, avoiding her eyes._

 _"Then, tell me! Explain things, Dan!"_

 _"It's-" he paused, taking a deep breath. "You can't call the police, Nes," he said calmly, staring intently into her green irises._

 _"Why?" she asked, having understood pretty much that part already. "Why not, Dan? You're not a prisoner, right?" she added._

 _"No, no, why did you even-?" he started, but shrugged. "Never mind," he muttered._

 _Dan hid his head in his hands for a moment, taking in deep breaths. Nessie waited in anticipation before he stared at her again, laughing,_

 _"Oh gosh, I can't believe I'm gonna tell you," he kept on laughing as he hid his face once again. In a matter of seconds, his body started shaking with tremors and when Dan looked up, slow tears were falling from his eyes._

 _She furrowed her brows in worry,_

 _"Dan, are you okay?" the boy choked a bit, before he let out one last laugh and looked her straight in the eye._

 _"No. No, I'm not fine, Nessie," he said. He seemed surprised, like he had just realised that. "The fact is, there's so much on my shoulders and, I can't do it all, you know?" she nodded encouragingly, trying to understand what was behind all of this. "I just-" Dan sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "I don't want to let her down. I'm trying to do better, to_ be _better, but..." he let out a deep breath, clearly trying to handle his emotions, always so well hidden behind his facade he built himself._

 _"Every choice I make leads to..." he paused, choking back tears and Nessie put her hand on his shoulder, offering some comfort. "I just can't do it, you know?" he glanced with his watery eyes and Nessie's heart broke at the sight._

 _"Dan, it's gonna be okay, believe me," she assured him softly, giving his shoulder a light squeeze._

 _He nodded, "Please, don't call the police. They can't- I can't lose this job. I need it." He took in a breath, "I have a sister and she's all I have. I would do anything for her," he whispered, looking down, "and if that means having a really crappy job, I'm gonna do that," he explained, his voice firm as he stared into her eyes._

 _Nessa let out a long breath, running hand through her long red hair,_

 _"Okay, Dan, let's all go home now, okay? Let's sleep, eat, clear our heads a bit, what do you think?" she asked in the end. She still didn't understand why calling police was a bad idea, but she didn't think she'd be even able to. They had a really stressful and tiring day and all she could think about was sleeping. Dan agreed, and after she closed the bar, they both went home._

 _"See you tomorrow, Dan," she said quietly, watching him leave as she put her keys into ignition._

When she got back home though, the exhaustion she previously felt disappears in the moment her head hits the pillow. The rebel part of her brain starts working out of the blue, and Nessie kicks her sheets off herself, sighing.

"Babe? You okay?" asks Rich, alert by his girlfriend's moves.

"Yeah, get back to sleep, I'll just get some water," Nessie pecks his cheek as she gets up.

She tiptoes into the kitchen and pulls out a bottle of water. She sits in the chair by the kitchen table in silence. Dan never told her he had any siblings, let alone, _a sister_. Nessie is aware of how mysterious and hidden her friend is, albeit she wouldn't guess he could be hiding something _that_ big.

She lets out a sigh. Dan has every right in the world to keep that information away from her. They're not dating, and they've only known each other for around 3 months. He doesn't owe it to tell her about that, she understands this. But as much as she does, she can't help but feel hurt. Does he not trust her?

Vanessa huffs. She thought they were at least close enough to trust the other, but apparently it's the other way. Dan's hiding everything about his life and if he wants it that way, let it be.

She's not gonna make him do anything.

* * *

 ** _I think the formatting messed up in the last chapter or I added a wrong version, not the edited one o.o (So sorry for those mistakes and everything!)_**

 ** _Hope you liked it, I'll look through the rest of the chapters in a while ;)_**

 ** _Comment, as always, your opinion makes my day :)_**

 ** _Edit: It turned out I must have uploaded a wrong version of the chapter, a really early one. I apologise for all my awkward notes to self and all those words in bold. Fixed that just now! I don't know if I didn't add something else to the 'official' version tho (saying that because I'm not entirely sure how different this one is from the old one)_**


	7. Chapter 7

At first he doesn't really notice anything is wrong. The days go by as they normally would. They have lots of people to serve at Raspberry Bar, that means lots of work. Although, when Friday comes, Dan acknowledges there is an elephant in the room.

"Nes, can you take my half of the bar too for a second? We're almost out of Carlsberg," he cleans the wood, looking worriedly over the whole place. The traffic today is crazy. Though it's Friday and it always means a busier work day, this day is one of the most crowded they've had so far.

Dan glances to his left, where Nessie's half of the bar is. The girl scrubs at the wooden surface with determination and he wrinkles his forehead,

"Nes? I gotta change a barrel?" he asks in a form of question. The red haired shoots him a dirty look, but nods. "Is everything alright?" he walks over to her, an empty box in his hands.

Nes's lips are set in a thin line and her eyes are narrowed when she throws a simple, "Of course!" in his direction. She goes back to work and Dan's brow furrows. Did he do something wrong? Had he offended her in some way? He asks himself those questions as he puts the empty box on a pile of identical ones in the stock room.

They hadn't really talked after that incident, but they hadn't fought either. Dan didn't pay much attention to how Nes acted around him. In fact, he was so caught up in work lately, that he must've not taken note of how drastically his friend's behavior had changed.

After Dan is back at his workplace, he throws at Nes subtle glances. He tries to understand what's wrong, but as he thinks about it, he can't see any problem.

"Nes, are we alright?" he asks finally. The bar's mostly empty, there are just a few last customers left. He and Nes are cleaning the place and preparing to lock it up.

Vanessa looks at him briefly as Dan places chairs on the tables. He raises his eyebrow as Nes lets out a long frustrated breath, flailing her arms in the air,

"Fine! Fine! If you wanna know," she lowers her voice as she notices they gained attention of a few people. She throws them a dirty look and waits for them to turn around and mind their business. "No, we're not, Dan. We're definitely not," her voice comes out as a low growl.

Dan stops in his tracks, his forehead wrinkled,

"Why? Do I not know about something?" he thinks about the last few days but all wrong he finds is that one time he forgot about a new supply delivery.

The girl gives him an exasperated look, "Later," she mutters.

Dan nods in agreement, after all they still have job to do and place to lock up.

An hour later and the floor is swept, mopped and the register is closed. Everything's done and Dan walks up to the bar, leaning on the wood,

"So, what's wrong, Nes?"

"It's..." she eyes the place, letting out a long breath. "It doesn't matter, okay?"

But he sees something is wrong, he can see the distress painted in his friend's eyes,

"No, it does matter, Nes. What's bugging you?" he examines her carefully. Nes rubs at her eyes, accidentally sweeping off some of her mascara.

She lets out a breath before she chuckles, "Dan, it's nothing, believe me."

"Then tell me we're good, Nes. Because as I see it, there is some problem and it's something connected with me, am I right?" he eyes her but she doesn't meet his gaze. "Am I right?" he questions, his voice raising.

"Yes, okay?!" she screams. She keeps an eye contact with him as she continues, "It's you! You're the problem, Dan!"

"What does that even mean, Nes?" Dan squints his eyes. Is she still mad at him for that forgotten supply?

"It means everything! I- it's-" she stammers, trying to find the right words to put it in. "It's you, okay? Ever since you came here, you're one big mystery! No one knows where you're from, where you live, what you're doing, what you did. And then," she stops for a breath, "and then there's Michael who apparently knows more about you than you'd ever told me!" she pauses, looking him in the eye, searching for truth. "Who the hell are you, Dan? And what are you even doing here, huh?"

Dan takes a step back tentatively. He's surprised. Of all the things he'd expected to hear, this was definitely not one of them,

"I can't tell you, it's-"

"What, dangerous?" she cuts him off. Nessie's voice is laced with mockery.

"Well, it's dangerous too, but mostly complicated," he admits, looking down. "Look, I know you are pissed, you think I'm holding many secrets but-"

"But what, Daniel? Am I supposed to just trust you?! Do you really expect me to put faith in you when I have no idea who you are?!"

"All I'm asking for is a little bit of trust. Do you not trust me, Nessie? Do you really think I could be the bad guy?" he shakes his head as the girl doesn't answer. "You know what? You're right, it doesn't matter. I'm not gonna be explaining myself because I did nothing wrong here," he takes in a breath. "If you wanna actually listen to what I have to say, tell me, but I'm not going to let you attack me and I'm definitely not going to be your punch bag," he says as he turns around.

"You don't protest much though when Michael uses you as his punch bag!" Nes screams behind him and Dan's jaw clenches tightly as he tries to compose himself. "Oh, yeah! Hit the spot, didn't I?!" He is able to imagine her crossed arms and smugness on her face.

"You really don't get it, don't you?" he whispers before he leaves the room.

Dan quickly puts on his jacket, blinking rapidly and taking in deep breaths. He lets out a hysteric laugh, shaking his head at the cynicism of the situation. And he dared to believe anyone would trust him!

Opening the back door, he stops for a moment to look behind himself. He waits, for a second, for what, he's not sure himself. Maybe deep inside he wishes Nes would trust him, not judge him so quickly.

There's silence coming from the inside and Dan merely shakes his head as he leaves the room. Shaking uncontrollably, he stuffs his hands deep in his pockets,not to let the feelings of loneliness and helplessness engulf him.

He fails.

* * *

Leaving the cold compartment of the train only to step into a sharply pouring rain doesn't surprise him at all. He always knew he was a loser and screw-up. They always told him he'd go nowhere in his life. That he'd have a pathetic life. That he would get what he deserves. And they always remembered to tell him he deserves nothing.

Dan lets out a shaky breath. He curls his fingers around something in his pocket and unconsciously starts crushing it.

He's done, he's so done. There's nothing stable in his life, because how can it be? He's never been good at keeping friends, he always manages to let them down at one point or another. He's just a stupid fuck up. A runner. Someone you quickly pass by on the street because you don't want to have to do anything with them.

The paper rips apart as he balls his fists. He tosses it angrily into a near puddle.

How can it be that he manages to fuck up every good relation he has in his life? He believes it's simply because everything he touches, turns into ashes and can be swept away by the slightest wind.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" he shouts into the emptiness and darkness around him and his legs buckle beneath him. "I can't, I just can't..." he sobs into his hands. He wishes he had someone he could talk to right now. He doesn't feel strong, not at all.

A broken cry leaves his lips and Dan bows his head. He didn't think it was going to be so hard. Two years ago, he thought he had a plan, that staying low until he turns mature wouldn't cause many problems. And that he'd somehow be able to give Nat a good life. At that time, everything seemed better than co-existing in the presence of his father. But reality showed him otherwise.

"I can't do this, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." he whimpers as he hugs himself. He doesn't pay attention to his surrounding, all sensations of cold and his soaking jacket don't reach his brain.

He just wants to disappear. He feels completely defeated, lonely and tired. How long will it take for Michael to cut his pay so much Dan will be left at his mercy? How long before every human right he has will be taken away from him?

"Does happiness exist?" he asks the darkness. For a brief moment, he stays silent, waiting for someone to answer him.

But all he gets is a pair of strangers which quickly passes him by, whispering to one another, 'Is he high or something?' which works for him nearly as well as a hard slap on the face to sober up.

The cold hits him and his teeth chatter. Quickly getting up on his feet, he rubs and blows on his hands as he tries to warm up. The pair disappears behind the corner and looking down, he notices the chunk of paper he tossed earlier. He squints his eyes and when he realises what the ripped paper is, he hurries to pick it up.

"Please, please, be there," he whispers, rubbing it on his jeans to dry it. Luckily, the number is still visible, unlikely the name which turned into a jumble of ink and dirt. Dan pulls out his phone and saves the number on the device. He frowns as he realises he has to call Philip. And the sooner the wealthy man knows his answer, the better.

His hands shaking from the cold, he clicks the dialling button and presses the phone to his ear.

* * *

 ** _Hey, if you liked, if you hated, let me know ;)_**

 ** _Your opinion literally makes me believe I'm not doing everything the wrong way :)_**


	8. Chapter 8

The sky is clear and Phil can hear traffic sounds of the few cars that drive at this hour. He watches the panorama of the city and people walking by. With his photographic eye, he can make out a woman dragging her crying baby and a jogging man on a walk with his dog. He looks further at the horizon and sees a pale glow of the entertainment part of the city where the interesting barman probably is at this time of the day.

Phil sighs as he thinks about the guy. Dan probably has his hands full as it's Friday. The bar is full of people searching for release in alcohol and Dan's surely so busy he has no time to call Phil.

That's what Phil repeats to himself, that Dan's _busy_. Too freaking busy with his little crappy work he can't make one godamn phone call, _damn it!_

He tightens his grip on the metal, the light breeze on his face like a slap from nature, saying _'calm down'_. He leans on the barricade, taking in a deep breath as he closes his eyes.

Phil can't stop himself from being upset about the guy though. Is he even serious? Does he realise how much of a chance Phil's giving him? He's not sure Dan acknowledges that this photography session could help him get into a world of flashes, red carpets and generally, _a much better life_. Only if he's eager to.

Dan could at least quit this stupid job of his. If it was Phil, he'd never allow himself to go so low as to get a job as a bartender. From all the jobs out there, of which many are interesting and exciting, Dan picked up shitty work at a bar?

Phil takes in another deep breath as he tries to settle down. It's Dan's life, Phil has no right to criticise it.

A knock on the door makes him shake out of his racing thoughts. Phil massages his temples as he leaves the big lounge, furnished in a minimalistic style. There are two black sofas, laid next to a glassy coffee table. His best works are decorating the walls, as well as his old diplomas. He goes through a long hall, passing the opened door to his studio. He glances at the cleaned up surface, ready to go.

 _If only I had a model already_ , he thinks when another knock brings him out of his thoughts.

Phil walks up to the door, not looking through the peep hole as he opens it. A boy is standing there, his posture hidden in a shadow. He's leaning on the doorframe nonchalantly, a wide smile planted on his face,

"You called, master," he bends down his body slightly, grin never leaving his features.

"Do you and Chris both have Master fetish or something?" Phil retorts and swears one day he's gonna punch them both for their theatrical perfomances. That's what you get for having friends from Creative Writing degree and theatre.

Phil lets PJ in, leading him into the lounge.

"You never know," says PJ and Phil only rolls his eyes.

"Just call me queen already," he jokes. "Anything you want? Tea? Water?"

PJ makes himself comfortable on the sofa and shakes his head lightly,

"I'm fine, thanks."

They sit for a while in silence as PJ crosses his legs, sinking into the cushion,

"So, what's up, Phil? You're one hell of an individual but calling me on a Friday night, this late? It's stranger even than what you'd normally do," PJ finishes, standing up. He stands in front of the wall where Phil hung his best works.

Peej never understood how Phil could be living in such empty and lifeless surroundings like this, but every artist has their quirks, they say. Phil's quirks are highly extreme as his place is barely stuffed with anything personal. Phil's flat looks more like it's out for sale than occupied by the twenty-two year old.

"You know about the project Mr. Takkyo has assigned my class?" Phil speaks up and PJ looks away from the pictures only for a moment. And the second he does, he notices Phil looks quite distressed.

He cocks his eyebrow in wonder as he returns to watch the pictures which he's seen at least hundred times already,

"Yep, what about it?" he glances at Phil's impatient face again, then at the pictures and then it hits him. He knows only one thing that could make his friend practically not be able to sit still. "Wait, you're not actually trying to tell me you found the topic, right?" he turns to Phil who stands up, walking up to the open sliding door, running his hand through his hair. "I mean, it'd usually take you half of the time before you find something," he pauses, his face forming a smile, " _perfect._ "

Phil turns around, rolling his eyes,

"Shut up, man," he says playfully. "I'm really just trying out something completely different."

"Okay, okay, I give in," replies PJ, raising his hands in surrender. He gives himself a minute to watch how his friend can't stand the growing silence. At some point Phil starts tapping his foot against the wooden panels nervously and PJ grins. He hasn't seen him that excited and looking forward to a session in... well, honestly he never saw him that excited.

"So, a woman?" PJ questions, looking down at his nails.

"A man."

"Age?"

"Over eighteen, I guess"

"Oh, you guess?" he winks to him pointedly.

"Well, to your knowledge he works at a barso, yeah I guess he's over eighteen," Phil rolls his eyes and PJ laughs at his friend, knowing well enough Phil's quite irritated with him already.

A sudden thought comes into PJ's mind as he supposes there can be only a few reasons why Phil's being such a little impatient kid about the thing,

"Mmm, handsome?" he wonders briefly.

"PJ!" Phil replies, up in arms, and PJ grins cheekily.

"Okay, I just want you to describe him for me," he smiles as Phil's eyes slowly grow distant.

"He's quite attractive, has dark brown hair, hazel eyes. He's tall. And he has this punk kind of feel, you know?" Phil smiles to his memories of meeting Dan and PJ must stop himself from making any more comments.

"Where did you find that angel of yours?" he asks, because he's really interested where Phil could find a _perfect_ person. It's also out of ordinary for Phil to describe his models like that. He'd say they're nice, good looking even but never has he used the word 'attractive'.

"At a bar," Phil replies shortly and PJ sucks in a breath, the place turning off all red alarms in his head.

He frowns as he realizes something,

"He's not a junkie, right?"

"No, no!" Phil quickly answers, but falls into silence, his forehead wrinkled. "I mean, he didn't look like one," he grimaces at the thought of Dan doing drugs and the idealized vision he has of him slowly starts crumbling with doubts.

PJ keeps staring at him for like a minute before he speaks up again,

"Wait, Phil, lemme keep up," he looks confused. "You found a _guy_ ," PJ waits for Phil to nod, "at a _bar_ ," he keeps counting on his fingers, "who is opposite to _perfect_ , "he waits till Phil nods. He takes in a breath, sitting on the sofa, rubbing the nape of his neck, "Man, I've got no idea what agency this guy's in but other people should be jealous of your search results." he says, trying to somehow accept all the information.

Phil looks down at his hands as he sits on the sofa nearby,

"It's..." he pauses. He knows his friend may be furious when he knows the whole truth. "He's not- he's not from any modelling agency. He's not a model actually," he glances at PJ who shakes his head vigorously.

"Oh man... A super stranger?! A passer-by?!" PJ asks, with surprise clearly written over his face.

Phil sighs, massaging his temples,

"I said I'm trying out something different, didn't I?" his response is close to a growl. He hates criticism, at least unjustified. He hadn't even started the project and PJ already has so many buts about it.

"I know, it's just that you keep surprising me, pal." Peej gives Phil a moment to cool down before he speaks again, "You do know though that work with a complete amateur, hell, a normal person, is gonna be a hard job? You're risking a lot, what if you don't make it on time?" he points out the facts that he feels he needs to remind Phil about.

"There's also one thing I wanted to tell you, but you may not like it," Phil says, peering at PJ.

"Try me." PJ leans against the cushions and opens his arms in a welcoming gesture.

Phil makes eye contact with him as Peej just stares at him expectantly,

"That day you, Brandon and Chris dragged me to a bar, you remember?" PJ nods, "Well, Patrick babbled out that Milly had found out that the student with the best project gets the superiority in New York." he finishes, but to his surprise, PJ smiles widely, beaming.

"That's great!"

"Yeah, it is," he agrees, smiling weakly. Peej keeps smiling for around ten seconds before his face falls, his demeanor immediately rigid.

"Oh no, Phil... Are you really gonna give your whole future into hands of this guy?!"

"Dude, calm down, okay? It was you who made me agree on the 'not perfect idea' shit and now out of a sudden you're against it?" Phil defends himself, raising his voice a bit.

"Man..." Peej says, wringing his fingers, "All I'm saying is, if you or him," he pauses, "or both of you fuck up, you're gonna be totally screwed."

Phil breaks the eye contact, sighing,

"I know..." A moment of silence follows his words.

"When is your first meet-up?" PJ chimes in, and Phil closes his eyes.

"He- He hasn't called back yet."

"So you still have no certainty he's gonna be your model?!" PJ asks in shock.

"No, but-"

"Phil! Basics matter too, okay?!"

"Okay, but just let me talk." Phil leans forward as his friend takes a breath in and out. He speaks up after a brief moment, "Listen, I'm gonna go to the bar he works at tomorrow, find out if he wants to work with me, and I'll know if I have _anything_ to work with-" he says but is cut off by his phone going off. He quickly takes it out. "Oh," he quirks an eyebrow as he stares at the number. "Excuse me," he quickly sits up and goes onto the balcony, sliding the glass door behind himself.

"Hello?"

He can nearly hear the stress in the voice on the other side, "Hello, is this phone of Philip Lester?"

"Yes, who is- Oh!" it only dawns on Phil that he knows this voice from somewhere. "Dan! How are you?"

"Ugh," the brown-haired seems floored and Phil wonders briefly why, "I'm fine, and you?"

"I'm great now that you're calling!" Dan grimaces at the happiness that fills Phil from head to toe. "Listen, I..." he stops for a breath, looking down at his wet shoes, "I'm calling to talk about that offer you gave me."

"Oh yeah, and what do you think about it?" Phil asks nonchalantly, leaning on the barricade and smiling brightly at PJ who looks back at him, confused. He gives him a thumbs up and when his friend only makes an even more dumb face, Phil just shrugs, his smile not lessening up even a tiny bit.

"Yeah, well," Dan rubs the nape at his neck, "I thought about this, I really did, I'm not lying," Bullshit, he hadn't spend a single second thinking about this. "And I appreciate your offer very much, Phil," he presses the phone with his arm as he rubs his freezing hands together, "but the answer is no."

Phil is nodding all the way to what Dan's saying, until he hears 'no'. His eyes are wide with shock and his smile fades,

"What?! Why? It's- it's a big chance for you! Dan, you don't understand it!"

"No, _you_ don't understand," Dan pressures, still upset after the fight with Nes. "I've got better things to do than some modelling. Like, oh yeah, I almost forgot! Like earn money to live?!" he sneers, jumping over a hole in a pavement.

Phil frowns hearing Dan's heavy breathing and a sound of a car passing by. He gives him a minute before he speaks up, his tone light-hearted,

"Oh, did I really not mention your pay?"

Dan's voice sounds weak and he himself stops immediately, nearly being nudged by other pedestrians, "Wh- what?"

Phil smiles to himself and he leans on the barricade once again, feeling he found Dan's blind spot, "Yes, pay, money, lettuce, however you want to call it," he tries to act cool but he's far from cool. Phil really wants this guy to be his model, no-one else.

"Oh, that, uh, that changes things," says Dan after a minute of deliberation. They need money and with how Michael has been acting lately, he doubts he's gonna be seeing lot of that.

"So? What do you think, Dan?" Phil inquires. He can feel his heartbeat in his throat and blood in his ears. He's gripping the metal bars tightly, fearing the answer may turn out not good to him.

"I- well," Dan laughs, "I wasn't prepared for _that_ , but since it seems like you're willing to give me a job, then fine," he agrees and Phil nearly jumps up into air.

"That's just fantastic, Dan!" PJ glances at Phil, his expression puzzled.

Dan smiles to himself as he turns the keys in the lock to enter the long hallway.

"I'm gonna call you back tomorrow, so we can arrange a meeting, is that okay, Dan?"

He humms in approval and after a second realises the other probably doesn't hear him, "Yeah, that's fine."

"Okay, that's great. Talk to you tomorrow, Dan!"

"Bye."

Dan enters his flat with a small smile on his face. He checks up on Natalie, only to find her sleeping peacefully on the dishevelled mattress. He smiles to himself,

"It's gonna be okay, Nat. Finally."

Back in the flat where a photography student lives, PJ wonders what happened and who called to make Phil smile from side to side. He comes back through the glass door and blue eyes stare right into his. Phil's toothy grin only widens as he explains,

"It looks like I have a model to work with."

* * *

 _ **Hello! I had in plans to post this yesterday but my internet sucked and then it was too late so here it is :D**_

 _ **Leave a comment, it's lovely and brings a banana smile on my face ^^**_


	9. Chapter 9

'NAT! You're gonna be late!" he shouts from the doorframe of the front door as he glances at his watch nervously. "Damn it, you know it's not nice, Nat!" Dan whines but as he looks up, he smiles widely. "Do you like the new clothes?"

His sister rolls her eyes but turns around in her pastel blue jersey and black flared skirt,

"Yes, they're awesome, but," she pauses, staring intently at him. Her green eyes show the smallest sign of worry, "Are you sure we can have them?"

"Nat, it's not so much," he explains, "we're able to afford that and, well," Dan smirks, "actually it's ours already. I've cut off the price tag so I don't think we could give it back to the shop."

Nat seems thoughtful for a while before a beautiful smile forms on her face. A smile of a happy teenage girl which Dan sees so rarely he feels proud from the achievement,

"Okay," she agrees, happy her brother isn't spending too much on her.

"You ready? Got your sheet music?"

He follows the girl with his eyes as she squeaks, hurrying into the apartment once again. There's a rustle of papers and movement and silence when-

"Got it!" she's at the door five seconds later, visible excitement and happiness written all over her face. All Dan's worries and exhaustion fade away at the sight before him and a quiet thought pops up in his mind, _This is why it's worth fighting for._

"Okay, put on your shoes quickly. We're running late," he orders. They shouldn't be late, they should show up on time as the lady is kind and sweet enough to charge them only £20.

Dan expects to see a disappointed expression, the 'I trusted you and you lost my trust' face. Yet, when they're finally standing in front of a two-floor building with white door and wait for someone to answer, the face which greets them is nothing but what he imagined.

"Good morning, Ms Farwell!"

"Hello, young boy! I was afraid you wouldn't come," an elder lady speaks up, her smile welcoming and warm. "Come in, you two," she opens the door more and they walk into a white hall, a soft carpet under their feet. Dan looks around and his smile falters, the house is everything he would imagine a happy family would have.

 _And what we can't have_ , he thinks sadly.

There is an arch on his right leading to an open living room and stairs right before him. On his left stands a small table with a lamp and a vase with real flowers which give away their beautiful scent.

"This way," says the lady, guiding them into the living room. They sit on a flowery sofa and Dan can't help but feel how much his tattooed arms and oversized t-shirt stand out in such a clean and nice room. At least Nat has some rad clothes, he thinks as he looks over at the teen. Her eyes are taking in the colourful and warm atmosphere of the place.

Joy. It's written over her features. Her eyes shine brightly and in a childish way which makes him realise once again that she's only fifteen.

"Do you want some tea?" cuts off any of Dan's further thoughts and he shakes his head, moving on his place uncomfortably, trying not sink into the crease.

"No, thank you. I don't have much time, I have to leave for work," he explains. "So..." he starts after a while, "we spoke over the phone earlier but I want to make sure the price is still the same."

"Yes, it is," she smiles at him in a motherly way and Dan nods.

"Can I ask why you've decided to teach?" he can imagine Nat rolling her eyes at him right now, but the girl keeps her smile on, looking around the room curiously.

As much as the house doesn't look like some psychopath's, the price is surprisingly low looking at where the lady lives which raises Dan's suspicion. And he's not gonna just leave his baby sister in this place alone with someone he doesn't know.

Sophia has been teaching cello for as long as her memory reaches and she's met all kinds of parents over the years. The suspicious ones who'd demand to meet her children to make sure she has experience in cello, protective mothers hoping for their offspring to stay away from bad influences and find interest in the instrument, busy business men leaving their children and giving her extra tip only for her to take care of them for a few more hours, ambitious ones who would expect their children to play perfectly after the first lesson.

She has seen all kinds of parents but never has she seen someone so protective, caring and loving. The young boy called Daniel makes her wonder if he's the father or just a brother of the girl. If yes, what about their parents?

As Sophia explains to him that her children are all grownups now but she loves teaching too much and decided to start giving private lessons, the boy relaxes slowly, earlier sitting all rigid. She shows him photos of the ones she taught and a smile creeps on his face when she tells him little stories of how everyone thought one of her worst students wouldn't go anywhere but was admitted into Royal Academy of Music.

Though the appearance and clothes of the young man doesn't score much, he wins her sympathy with his honest smile and courtesy. Sophia would never think someone looking like a drug addict would turn out to be a very polite, sweet and caring young man.

Dan's nerves aren't settled, he's never calm when his sister isn't around but as he stands by the door he feels more at ease after getting to know Nat's teacher a little,

"I'll see you in a bit, sweetheart, act nice," he kisses Nat's head like she's a toddler and the girl nods. He says his goodbye to Ms Farwell, sparing one last glance at his sister. The teen gives him thumbs up and smiles as the door closes.

* * *

"You're what?!"

Dan rolls eyes at his friend's reaction. He should've thought of a different way to break this to Kevin.

"A model, Kev," he explains patiently, staring at the man lying on the other sofa. He's known him only for a year but damn, they both met when they had no one to go to. Dan just lost his job after his manager found out he was a minor and Kevin had only turned eighteen and decided to move out.

Kevin's eyes are closed and he's shaking his head in disbelief,

"A model..." he repeats blankly, waving his hand as though it's too hot in the room and Dan rolls his eyes at the spectacle.

"It's just a one time thing though. I don't have in plans to become a _model_ ," he spits out the world bitterly. "We need money now, more than ever," he adds.

Kevin's blue eyes shot open at that and he sits straight on the black, rigged sofa. His forehead wrinkles,

"I thought you have a job," he looks at Dan and the boy drops his gaze to the floor.

Dan rubs the nape at his neck nervously. He laughs bitterly,

"I _have_ a job, Kev."

"Then, what's the problem?" he asks and Dan's tongue gets stuck in his throat as he thinks what he can tell and what he shouldn't.

"It's- he- I," he stutters out finally.

Kevin inspects his friend carefully. He smells a rat. Something is clearly wrong about the job.

"I..." Dan takes in a breath. "I told you what a blessing getting this job was," he starts and Kevin nods, sensing he's gonna hear something he would rather not hear. "Well, I was wrong," Kev cocks his eyebrow at Dan questioningly who lets out an exasperated breath, looking down at his feet.

"At first, it was all good. The job was fine, the payment was enough to rent a crappy place and afford books for Nat. My boss changed after a while though. He..." Dan bits his bottom lip. His hands start shaking slightly. "He started threatening me, cutting off my pay for the stupidest shit. I... I don't know why he's doing this," he finishes, hiding his head in his arms.

Kevin says nothing for a good minute, trying to combine some facts he noticed himself. He takes out his lighter and cigarette, lighting up the end and bringing it up to his lips. He draws on the cigarette for a while, focusing on his friend,

"So when you said lately you had no time to meet up it was-"

"Because my boss told me to come earlier to work," Dan fills in.

"But he paid you, of course?" he asks and when the brunette doesn't look up, Kevin only nods knowingly. "So he turned out to be a total douche," he sums up. "Did he do anything else besides taking advantage of your situation?"

Dan casts him momentary glances as he spills out all what happened recently in his life. He tells him how he stepped in between his arguing boss and co-worker and his boss hit him because of it. Kevin's eyes grow more and more angry as Dan confesses he's scared it won't end there,

"Fucking psycho," mutters Kevin, running a hand through his hair. His cigarette lays forgotten in the ash-tray. Dan sits in front of him in the armchair, massaging his temples. "You know you have to quit, right?"

"I know- I mean, no," Dan mumbles, looking up at him with tired eyes. "I know we need money and I know there aren't many people out there eager to give a job to a runaway minor with practically kidnapped sister."

Kevin examines him for a second. He looks exhausted with his droopy bloodshot eyes and slouched posture. Kevin would love to get his hands on the bastard who is the main cause of making his friend's life worse than it already is, but he's aware Dan will never tell him the name of his boss.

"It will happen again," Kev states, no trace of doubt in his voice.

"I know."

"He'll manipulate you more," he tries again.

"I can take it," Dan replies, stare firm.

"He's gonna cross more lines."

"I am aware of that."

They stare at each other in a silent agreement. Kevin knows Dan isn't gonna give up on the job because he needs the money. He understands him all too well. The boy can quit his job, practically kicking himself out of his flat or stand all the tortures Dick The Boss will give him until he turns eighteen. Which will happen in six months so it's not for such a long time.

Dan stares at Kevin stubbornly, reading off his face that he respects his decision.

"How are you?" he asks finally, breaking the eye contact.

He and Kevin used to rent this flat together until Dan found out a little bag with white powder in Kev's wardrobe. They argued, a lot. Dan was convinced Kev was a dealer and had a bad influence on Nat, and his friend had nothing to protect himself with. No matter how many times he repeated it was a one time thing, Dan didn't believe him and as soon as he got his first pay at the new job, he rented a new flat, his actual home. He visited Kevin a week later and when he found another package of white powder hidden in a book, sparks flew.

However, when Dan found out that Kevin was taking drugs as an escape from losing the only and closest person to family he had, Dan felt he had messed up as a friend. They made up and from that time, Dan often checked the place for any traces of drugs to avoid Kev getting back to old habits but so far, Kevin was clean.

"Old stuff, as always," he shrugs. "I found a part-time job at a cafe, it's enough to pay the rent," he smiles and Dan nods.

"What about your flatmate?" he looks around, noticing the lack of colourful posters which usually hang on every wall.

"He met a girl and lives with her now..." Kevin goes quiet suddenly. "You could move in, you know. I could help you with Nat."

Dan says nothing, contemplating. Of course they could move in and share the rent, but the biggest plus of their actual crappy home is that it's _theirs_.

No matter how comical it may sound, Dan likes the feeling of the words 'their own' in his mind. Though most of the stuff doesn't really belong to them, the same thought that they have something that is theirs, and only theirs creates a small, weak excuse of _'home'_ is comforting _._

"I'll think about this," he tells and Kevin nods, though both of them know the answer.

They catch up with what's going on in their lives. Kevin met a charming girl at the cafe he works at, though he insists with might and main that nothing is between them. Dan laughs at that,

"When you get married, I wanna be your best man," Dan grins as he quickly ducks down to avoid being hit by the flying pillow.

He sticks his tongue out at his friend as Kev denies further,

"I only work with her! We're friends!"

"Yeah, right, right. Keep repeating that, maybe someone will believe you," says Dan, smiling from ear to ear. He squeaks when he needs to jump away from Kev's hand. Dan's smile only widens and Kevin rolls his eyes at him.

His phone dings suddenly and Dan takes it out to read the message. His forehead wrinkles and Kevin stares at the boy who suddenly face palms,

"I forgot I'm meeting with Phil today," he types a short reply, standing up from the sofa.

"Phil?" Kev wriggles his eyebrows at him, grinning.

"The photographer," he replies. Dan looks at his watch, "Shit, I'm gonna be late."

He puts on his jacket quickly and Kevin shouts after him as Dan goes to the door, "Your boyfriend?"

He hears nothing before Dan shows up in the room again,

"Shut up!"

Kevin's smile only grows, "Knew it!"

He laughs uncontrollably when the other shows him his middle finger,

"But when you get married, I wanna be your best man! Remember, Dan!"

He can hear Dan rolling his eyes at him as he mutters,

"You're crazy," before the door shuts close behind him. Kevin only responds with more laughter.

* * *

 _ **I usually update in the evening but we're going to a charity auction later and I doubt I'll have time, so here it is :D**_

 _ **Comments inspire a lot 3**_


	10. Chapter 10

Dan frowns looking at the address Phil sent him. If he's not wrong, it's in the wealthy area, with green lawns and colourful playgrounds.

As he arrives on the place, he furrows his brows. He was right. There may not be playgrounds as he imagined it but every building is enclosed and he has to call Phil to let him in through the front gate. He snorts, walking through a pathway leading to another door. This time, Dan doesn't need to call Phil again to open the door as he slides in behind a man dressed in a fancy suit who's too busy speaking on the phone to notice him.

Walking up to a metallic lift, he passes by an elderly lady who scans him suspiciously. Dan feels so out of place he nearly turns around. Nearly, as he doesn't forget the main reason why he's here. He casts his eyes to the ground and prays the lift comes quicker. He feels how the lady glowers at him when there's a beep and he scurries inside.

He lets out a breath as he rubs his eyes.

 _Damn, that lady was pure evil,_ he laughs nervously. She probably thought he was a thief or a robber. He rolls his eyes at the thought.

The lift takes him to the ninth floor and he steps out of it, heading to a black wooden door with a tag _'Lester'_ on it. He takes in a few breaths before he knocks softly on the wood. He shifts from one foot to the other as he listens closely for any footsteps. He pulls out his phone to call Phil and make sure he got the right number, but then the doors are pushed open.

His breath is taken away when he's face to face with those blue eyes with laughter lines around them. Dan loses his tongue for a good time and realises it. Far too slowly, as he thinks about it,

"Heyyy, Phil..." he awkwardly waves, putting his phone away. Phil's smile widens and Dan wonders if that's even possible.

"Come in," he gestures and Dan steps in.

They're standing in a long, clear, nearly sterile hall. A soft beige carpet covers the floor and there are a few paintings hanging on the walls. Dan walks up to one, watching with interest a beautiful green image.

"Ah, that one is really old," Phil comments and Dan's eyes widen.

"It's a picture?!"

The corners of Phil's lips rise slightly as he nods.

"Damn..." he mutters with respect. "So you paint too?"

Phil smirks, "Sometimes. Okay, how about I show you my studio?" he asks, leading already to the first room on their left.

"Studio?" Dan repeats quietly to himself but he doesn't ask as he follows after him.

When he walks inside, Phil's already standing in the middle, studying his reaction.

There's a white material hanging on a wall. Part of it lays on the floor with a tripod in front of it. A table with any sorts of photographic magazines stands next to a comfy looking white sofa. On both sides of the room is a black umbrella on another tripod, two lights with a black material covering them. The walls are painted light grey, the panels are light wood. On the right side of the room stands a white desk with a laptop on it.

"What the hell..." Dan mutters.

Phil grins at his reaction, hands on his hips, seemingly proud,

"Makes an impression, does it?"

Dan looks over at him, snorting, "Well, yeah, if you wanna die of boredom here."

Phil's smile falters as he clearly doesn't understand the other's thoughts. He has his own studio and it's as far as he knows, the best equipped one from everyone at his University.

Dan spots his dumb and puzzled expression but doesn't bother to explain.

He walks up to the big white background, inspecting it closely,

"So, why did you want _me_?" he asks loosely and when he glances over at Phil, he can't help his cheeks turning bright red. The black haired is tracing his azure eyes on the outline of his body, following movement of his hand as Dan runs his hand through his brown locks nervously. When their eyes lock, a shiver passes through his body and Dan can't help but part his lips at the adoration and fascination Phil's looking at him with.

"I didn't only want you, Dan," he explains with all seriousness in his eyes. "The first time I've seen you, I knew something was up. I just didn't know what it was, but," he pauses, a brief grimace passing through his face, "something kept me to come back to that bar once and once again until I figured out what it was. It was you," he whispers.

As soon as Dan wraps his head around what the boy said, he turns into a blushing mess. Phil had just said he was special. Or at least that's what Dan deducts from the long speech he was given. Dan shakes his head, laughing,

"Man, that was deep," he stammers out, not able to meet Phil's eye.

He didn't expect to hear something like that from Phil, from anyone. And they had just met!

Phil clears his throat but Dan doesn't look up, not able to contain his burning cheeks.

"I'm sorry, that was... that was definitely wrong," Phil apologises and Dan's confused as to why that sentence had hurt so much.

"It's fine, really," he assures and an awkward silence falls between them.

"I'll go get something to drink," Phil states finally and Dan thanks God for his timing. "Tea?"

"Water is fine, thank you."

The blue eyes leaves Dan alone and only when his footsteps quiet down, Dan lets himself breathe out slowly.

* * *

He didn't plan for it to go this way, he repeats to himself as he fills two glasses with water.

His model was supposed to show up, they were meant to talk out the session, plan it out and then just part their ways. They weren't supposed to get close and Phil definitely didn't plan to spill his thoughts and heart to him.

Phil rubs at his temples as he ponders how in the bloody hell he's supposed to play this out. Should he just walk in there and act cool, as if nothing happened?

Yes, that's what he's gonna do, he decides, grabbing the glasses and making his way over to the studio. His bravery flees somewhere though when he reaches the door. He takes in a breath or two, before he walks in, his trademark smile in its place,

"Here you go," he passes Dan his water as he ensconses on the sofa, making sure there's plenty of space between them.

He faces the boy whose cheeks are slightly pink,

"So do you have someone here? A family, a girlfriend, a-"

"No." The answer is short and sharp and Phil senses how the brown haired tenses at the question.

He said the wrong thing again, how many faux-pas can he make in one day?

"I'm sorry if I'm being nosey, I didn't mean to-"

"I know. It's alright," Dan assures him. He's not gonna tell him about Nat, about his father, he's not telling him anything. "What will the session look like?" he asks, directing the conversation on different trails. "I hope you know I have no idea about all that modelling thing and photography," he confesses, praying Phil realises that and isn't gonna kick him out. Dan would rather not lose another source of so needed money.

"I'm fully aware of that," Phil replies, giving him a comforting smile. "We're gonna start off with a few exercise sessions, see how you feel in front of lens and how you present yourself," he explains calmly, and when Dan chokes on his water he adds quickly, "It's standard with inexperienced people, it's just to make sure the final pictures turn out good. If you stress and feel uncomfortable with a camera, the photos might look unprofessional and generally, bad," Phil finishes and Dan's still slightly coughing.

"Is it supposed to make me feel better?" Dan blinks with disbelief and Phil shakes his head lightly.

"I'm just saying how it looks like."

"Well, you better coat it in some sugar first 'cuz I feel like I might vomit on the first day of shooting," he responds truthfully and Phil flashes him an encouraging smile.

"Don't worry, no one has vomited on my plan yet," Phil says, patting him on the back and Dan just stares at him.

"Jesus, you sure as hell have no idea how to comfort," he mutters and Phil wrinkles his forehead as he doesn't understand what he did wrong again.

"Anyway," he speaks after a while, "about the session," he crosses eyes with the brown haired firmly. "The general and most important concept is that the session is supposed not to be perfect. I want to turn something usually pictured as bad into something neutral, maybe even positive."

"Wait, wait, is me- am I bad or something?" Dan asks, brows knitted in suspicion and distrust.

Phil understands his mistake and swears under his breath.

"No, no, Dan. Sorry,it's not like that," he mutters and as Dan slowly rises to stand up, he quickly holds him down by his hand. Dan freezes, which doesn't go unnoticed by Phil. He wrinkles his forehead, thinking why does the boy seem scared?

"Listen, Dan, please, hear me out," he pleads eventually and Dan's sharp gaze softens and he sits down again. "It's not, like that... It's about stereotypes," he explains at last and he fixes his eyes with Dan. He reads his face carefully. Slight confusion passes over his features as he tilts his head to the side.

"Stereotypes?" he slowly repeats with disbelief, staring at him with uncertainty.

"Yes, stereotypes," Phil gives Dan a small smile. He didn't mean to offend him at any point of their work, yet so far he had done it plenty of times. "You may often hear people saying they don't believe in stereotypes. Though when a real life situation comes, instead of relying on their own opinion and observations, they would much rather prefer to follow blindly some old, meaningless convictions," he says, shaking his head a little.

"I don't want people to change their whole world views, I just don't want them to judge so quickly."

Dan nods, understanding what Phil means. He really likes the idea but he's not gonna tell Phil, of course not.

"Okay, I get it," he doesn't comment on what Phil told him, leaving his thoughts to himself.

Phil stares at him, like he's waiting to hear what he has to say. When there's only silence for a longer while, he draws in a breath, continuing,

"I've decided this session is gonna be totally different from my earlier ones. I wanna show all your punk aspects in some new, fresh way. I wanna do something I've never done before," he smiles at the feeling of adrenaline pursing through his veins.

He loves photography. Every time he looks through the viewfinder there's this brief, strong excitement and feeling of making his dreams come true, of making the right thing. And after he takes the pictures and finally finds the best ones and does the editing, the most dreading moment is when he shows his final effect to the others. The moment when he finds out if all his efforts were for something, if what he did is worth watching, lingering their eyes on.

Dan looks at Phil and smiles at corners of Phil's lips softly rising. He's talking with passion about the session, which makes it seem like he's truly loving what he's doing.

Dan sighs when he wonders how it feels when people do what they really want to do in theirr lives.

"Your look is just awesome for the session. We're gonna need to buy you some clothes and we're gonna need to put some makeup on your face," Phil carries on and Dan knits his brows at the word 'makeup'. He doesn't ask questions though, knowing Phil must know what he's doing. "I was also thinking about some black, heavy jewellery to add up to the punk look we're gonna try to end up with, but I'll acquaint you more with that in our next meeting."

"Are we going to shoot in here?" Dan asks, the question flying around in his head uncomfortably.

Phil nods and Dan frowns, raising his brows at him, "Isn't that kinda deleting the whole concept of not making it perfect though?"

Blue eyed grins at him, realising Dan's been listening carefully to him despite the whole 'I don't give a damn' attitude.

"What do you suggest then?"

He gives him a glance full of disbelief, his eyes widening with incomprehension,

"At least make it in the open air!"

"You mean plen-air?" he asks, finding it funny how ridiculously concerned Dan acts. He appreciates his help and worry. It's kinda cute.

Dan puffs with frustration, standing up from the sofa, "I don't care! Then make it in plen-air!"

Phil grits his teeth so as not to laugh at Dan's pursed lips and crossed arms.

"Okay," he agrees solemnly.

"And you're not going to mess up your session just because of a stupid place!" he flails his hands around, not able to contain his frustration and concern. Phil feels the need to calm down the boy so he stands up too, gently laying his hand on Dan's shoulder,

"Okay, Dan," he whispers quietly. "It's gonna be okay, you'll see," he says softly when Dan turns around. His brown eyes with little lines of amber around the center are wide and he swallows hard as he looks at Dan's delicate, pink lips briefly, leaning in slowly...

"I gotta go," Dan mutters suddenly, taking a step back. He glances down, face flushed with embarrassment.

Phil's not able to speak for a while. He clears his throat, shaking his cloudy head,

"Yeah, yeah, I've got to edit my latest session anyway," he breathes out. His voice is croaky, low; and Dan feels guilty for finding that hot.

"I'll go then," Dan mumbles, eyes trailed to the floor, leaving the room quickly.

Phil hears the door close quietly and he lets out an exasperated breath. He sits down on the sofa, running a hand through his face.

What in the hell is he doing?

* * *

 ** _Comments are like hot chocolate and a blanket on this really sad windy day_**


	11. Chapter 11

Dan knocks hastily as he finally reaches the white doors. He runs a hand nervously through his hair, moving from one foot to the other. The door opens and he blurts out, a little winded out from running all the way here from the tube,

"Hi, is Nat ready?"

Ms Farwell doesn't notice his strange appearance or just doesn't comment on it, though his hair is disheveled and his shirt is crumpled from balling his fists into it constantly. The woman smiles warmly, hundreds of single wrinkles creating around her golden eyes,

"Oh yes, she is! We've been waiting for you for a long time now!" she says, inviting him in.

Dan leans heavily on the doorframe, taking in quick breaths, shaking his head lightly,

"I'm really sorry for this, there was a lot of traffic," he explains. He takes out his wallet, his hands shaking albeit faintly as he pulls out two twenty bills, adding some more as a tip. "That's for the extra time you needed to spend with Nat."

The old lady looks at him like he's grown two heads as she shakes her head vigorously, pushing the money away,

"I will not take this!" She leans in, "You're gonna need it more than I," she adds, whispering understandingly.

Dan furrows his brows, not getting what she meant but accepts the returned money, "Thank you, I promise it won't happen again," he says solemnly.

Ms Farwell shrugs him off, smiling widely, "Oh, no problem at all! It was really nice getting to know that little lady more!" she chimes and a brown haired head sticks in from the door.

Dan flashes a weak smile to the lady as he nods at Nat. His sister puts on her black shoes, stopping to say goodbye in such a polite way Dan can't believe it's his sister.

"Thank you and sorry, ma'am. I really couldn't get here earlier," he apologises once again, fully aware that if he hadn't sunk in his thoughts and missed his stop, he'd have been here on time and wouldn't need to worry about arriving on time to his work.

The lady nods with comprehension.

"Next lesson in a week, Natalie!" she shouts after them as they're walking away.

"Okay, I won't forget! Goodbye, Ms Farwell!" she shouts, waving in her direction.

Only when they're out of her sight, Nat looks over her brother, his tense body, eyes trained down on the sidewalk. She nudges him to stop when he's a foot from hitting a road sign.

"Dan, are you okay?" she asks quietly as they set off again. Dan seems upset, there's definitely something on his mind.

Her brother doesn't reply, he only quickens their pace even more.

"Dan!" she yells at last as his behavior scares her. She wants to know if everything's alright, wants to know what happened to make her brother that concerned.

Dan stops. He stares at her for a moment, shaking his head lightly and his brown eyes finally focus on her, "What is it, sweetheart?"

Nat stands in front of him, her forehead wrinkled, "What is wrong, Dan?"

"Nothing, sweetie, I'm gonna be late for work, is all, we gotta hurry," he says and she nods. They start walking again, this time a little slower so it doesn't seem like they're running away from something. "How did you like your new teacher?" he chats her up, his eyes staying on her face just for a second before they are drawn to his feet once again.

"Well, at the beginning I thought she's gonna be really dense or strict but she is really sweet and helpful!" she talks, looking at Dan's reaction. He only nods and Nat squints her eyes with suspicion. Her sharp instinct tells her Dan isn't listening her at all.

"And then she showed me her snake, she has a real python!" she makes up, studying her brother's face. She knows Dan wouldn't be quite happy about anything harmful being near her so when he only nods sheepishly, Nat understands that whatever he's thinking about must be huge to keep him that sunk in his own thoughts.

She's silent for the rest of the way, squeezing her brother's hand as if it could make him smile.

* * *

He has no idea what it was back there at Phil's flat. One second they were talking and the next one they got so close Dan could breathe in Phil's sweet fruity scent and count freckles on his nose. His mind was giving him mixed signals, he wanted to slam their lips together and then he was scared to do it.

Dan doesn't know why he's feeling this physical attraction to the man. He's not gay!

After dropping Nat at their flat, he only grabs his jacket and heads to work immediately. The train nearly leaves without him but he quickly puts his foot between the door. When he's at the bar, it's twenty past five, meaning he's late.

He only prays Michael doesn't notice or he's not there today.

"Hey," Dan mutters to Nes, quickly taking off his jacket and tying up his apron.

Maybe Dan is feeling the physical attraction toward the blue eyed because the guy is simply hot? His mesmerizing blue like ocean eyes, the paleness of his smooth soft skin and the black fringe, oh so similar to his can really do a thing to a man's heart. And Dan's sure he wouldn't be an exception. There were probably a lot of other guys contemplating changing their orientation only to be able to swim in Phil's eyes and melt under its gaze.

* * *

Nessa knits her brows as she watches Dan. He seems... off, definitely. He hadn't said a word to her so far if she doesn't count the greeting and it's nearing eight now. He works in almost a complete silence, talking only when he takes orders. Often wrinkling his forehead, as if to dismiss some idea, he's super precise, merely pedantic fixing the drinks.

She's been expecting something entirely different. She thought that after their fight, Dan would grunt and pretend she doesn't exist, for what she deserves.

When the silence becomes too much for her work comfort and chatty personality, she breaks finally, her posture slouched and face filled with guilt and regret,

"Dan, I wanted to talk with you about what I said earlier," she starts, watching Dan intently. The boy frowns, hearing her voice and he turns to face her, giving her his full attention. "I... I judged you too fast. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

He stares at her for a while and his thoughtful expression turns into a truthful smile,

"It's okay, everyone does that," he says, looking ahead as if he was quoting someone.

She narrows her eyes, "What? What do you mean?"

But Dan is back in his little world again, "Huh?" he asks, not particularly listening. "Oh, listen," he speaks, leaning into her ear. "A delivery guy called earlier, said he had a little car breakdown and he's not able to make it here quicker than two hours," he whispers, casting little glances in direction of Michael's office.

Nes squints her eyes, wondering why Dan is daydreaming so much, "Okay, I'll tell the boss."

The brown haired glances up, his eyes wide and Nes notices he's shaking almost invisibly, "Are you sure? I can do that," he gulps and she only waves him off with a motion of her hand.

"No, it's fine. I'll be fine, don't worry," she calms him down, walking away.

She can't picture Dan being able to explain their boss the delivery will be late and not fainting in the process. And she's sure Michael wouldn't be quite happy to receive that message from him.

* * *

The next day Dan finds himself standing right in front of his friend's door. He rubs at his neck nervously. He doesn't need to go in, he still can back away, he repeats to himself. Though after two days of pondering and analysing every little detail of his and Phil meeting and why did everything happen the way it did, why he felt desire, lust toward the other man and asking himself many other why's, Dan feels his head might explode if he doesn't hear an outside observer's opinion.

Tentatively, he knocks on the wood. He doesn't know what to expect. He and Kev didn't have a talk about orientation yet so Dan may be as well walking into a lion's mouth. He hopes Kevin will understand his feelings and his own confusion at least.

Kevin opens the door and stares at Dan in question, but lets him in silently, seeing how indecisive his friend looks like.

They take seats on the black sofa after Kevin throws some of his t-shirts off it.

"Is everything alright, Dan? You seem..." he pauses, thinking how not to offend his friend and be delicate, "kinda different?" he finally opts for what he hopes is the best.

Dan lets out a breath lasting at least a few seconds. He rubs at his eyes and blinks at him, "I don't know myself..." he mutters, staring at his hands.

Kevin cocks an eyebrow. Dan's hiding something. And it's bothering him a lot.

"Did something happen? Did your boss do something to you?" he questions, Boss The Dick being the only on his blacklist for hurting his friend.

The brown haired glances at him briefly, but looks down at last, "I wish," he whispers and Kev's brows knit.

"Dan, what is going on?" he asks seriously, straightening up as he feels something big is coming up.

Dan rubs his neck as he breathes out heavily, "I- it's... Kev, I'm..." he stumbles over his words, his brown eyes closing. "I think I'm in too deep," he explains quietly, finding interest in his hands.

The blond studies him for a minute. Dan's bottom lip quivers and light tremors shake his body.

"With who?" he asks calmly, trying to understand the situation.

Dan's chest heaves as he carries on, "We kissed." Kev's mouth falls open and Dan quickly adds, "Nearly."

"But I'm not gay!" he screams, frustrated.

It clicks in Kevin's mind and he understands right away who Dan is referring to. The first thing he wants to do is to crack a joke of 'there you are' but as he watches his friend attentively, he drops the idea. Dan's taking in fast breaths as he holds his head in his arms. He's seemingly overwhelmed by the situation.

"Well, maybe you are," he speaks softly, locking eyes with the brown haired.

"Am not!" Dan shoots him a dirty look.

" _Maybe_ you are," Kevin presses.

"But I'm not!" he stands up and paces around the room, arms crossed.

"Dan," he tries again, changing his tone to as soft as it's humanly possible, "those things change. Maybe you just didn't realise you're gay?"

"Am not! Damn you, Kev!" he shouts, standing by the window, his back on Kevin.

"Listen, it's like with colours," the blond speaks again, after a minute, hoping his friend won't shoot him. "You like one colour, then you don't, you love another one!" he explains, gesticulating animatedly. He laughs as he realises something, "Though I don't think black will ever stop being your favourite!"

Dan rolls his eyes at his friend as he sits on the sofa once again. He takes in a breath, fixing his gaze with the sapphire eyes,

"What am I supposed to do?"

Kevin's answer is quick and simple, "Play it cool. Like a ninja." Well, as simple as it could be.

"Like a what?" he squints his eyes and wrinkles his forehead. Anyone except Kevin would explain normally what they mean but that's not how it works with his friend.

"Just see," he prompts eagerly. "See if he feels the same way."

"Kev, we nearly kissed!" he brings again the obvious.

"Then just ask him what it was about," Kevin eyes Dan who lets out an exasperated breath and looks at him with disbelief.

"Are you crazy?! He's gonna think I'm some weirdo!"

The blond splays out his hands in surrender, "Well, what can I tell you? I'm not a good love adviser," he grins but his face turns serious again. "Just do what your heart tells you to do."

Dan nods, lips pressed together. He knows what his heart tells him but he doesn't want to admit to those feelings and most important of all, he doesn't want Phil to know about them. The last time he opened up to someone was when he spilled all the truth about his situation to Michael and that ended in the worst way possible.

He's truly scared it will happen again.

* * *

 _ **Hope you enjoyed, leave some words of wisdom for me :3**_

 _ **ps. next one is gonna be full of pheeelings!**_


	12. Chapter 12

Shortly after Dan went home from Kev's, he got Phil's message about the next meet up. They both decided that the best day to do it would be on Saturday as both boys are free then; Dan having the day off and Phil no classes.

The whole week stretches out excruciatingly for Dan. He's been both excited and afraid to meet Phil eye to eye again. He was scared that because of the kiss that almost took place at Phil's flat, Phil wouldn't want to have anything to do with him, let alone continue their work together. Dan repeated to himself that the only reason Phil met up with him again would be to end their cooperation or to call him out.

When Dan makes it to the park Phil sent him the directions to, the black haired is already waiting for him. He's sitting on a bench, looking around. His feet are beating out a rhythm of Immortals as he wonders if Dan will come. He wouldn't be so much surprised if he didn't show up. After all, Phil put him in a few awkward situations the last time they saw each other.

With heart pounding and head full with doubts, Dan approaches the metal front gate of the big green park which smells of old trees. He doesn't need to go in far though. He finds Phil on a bench, a black bag sitting next to him.

"Hey," he whispers, his voice coming out quiet and strained.

Phil looks up, an immediate smile forming on his face, "You came!"

"Uh, duh," Dan mumbles, glancing at his feet. His stomach is churning as he feels he doesn't know what to say, if he should coment their last 'situation', if he should apologise. And then, why does Phil seem happy? Shouldn't he shout at him and break their deal?

Phil munches on his bottom lip as waves of guilt run through him. He was the one who made the boy feel so uncomfortable and awkward and now he has no idea how to fix it. He's not sure if he should address what happened and apologise, what if Dan wants to pass over the awkardness?

"I brought my camera with me, if that's okay with you," he says quietly and Dan only nods, not meeting his eye. Phil feels as if someone stabbed him in the heart. And it's all _his fault_. Again.

"You should get comfortable with the camera first, as I said earlier," he explains and swears at himself. How can Daniel feel comfortable when the atmosphere around two of them is thick with awkwardness?

The boy only moves from one foot to the other and Phil gets up from the bench, taking his bag with himself. Blue eyes says nothing as he leads Dan further into the park, stopping by a big fountain in an European style with ten carved flowers around the rock circle from which shoots streams of water.

Dan stops to examine it closer. It's big, as he stares at it and it's covered in a green moss, giving away its years.

"I thought this place would be okay?" Phil asks unsurely and Dan nods, realising he's been a dick from the moment he's here. Phil doesn't deserve to feel uncomfortable and bad. If anything, it's Dan who did wrong back in Phil's flat.

"It's beautiful," he assures him softly and when Phil's lips rise in a smile, Dan can't help doing the same. "So... what am I supposed to do?" he glances nervously at the fountain and then back at Phil. His hands begin to sweat as he recalls he knows nothing about modelling and posing.

"Don't worry, it's gonna be okay," Phil calms him down and somehow his voice is all it takes for Dan's muscles to relax slowly. "If you could sit on the edge of the fountain on the beginning?" he instructs him and Dan sits down on the cold rock as he's told, breathing out slowly. "And now place your hand near your ear?"

Dan feels aware of his body the moment a couple passes the fountain, staring curiously at the two.

"Phil, I feel stupid," he confesses, quiet enough only for blue eyes to hear him. The boy opens his bag quickly, putting out a big black camera.

"You're doing great, Dan. Can you straighten up?" he asks, attaching a big lense to it. Dan bolts upright, his back cracking from such a sudden movement. Phil looks up from his camera and there's a ghost of smile playing on his lips. "A little, Dan."

Dan rolls his shoulder blades, slouching a bit.

"That's perfect," Phil comments, kneeling down, he brings the viewfinder to his eye.

"Turn your face to the right slightly."

"And now glance up, like the trees are intriguing you."

Dan looks up, staring at branches of green high oaks.

"Good, Dan. And now part your lips a little..." Phil orders, his words stretching out as he's busy taking pictures. Dan blushes at the command but obeys. He opens his mouth a little, hoping it looks like he's surprised or whatever emotion he's supposed to look like.

"Now look at me," comes from his left and Dan feels his cheeks reddening. He turns his head in Phil's direction and he turns bright red, noticing a little crowd standing behind Phil. There is a couple with a little child, the girl pointing at him and her mother quietly whispering something into her ear. A bunch of teens stand there too, two girls and three boys, their heads tilted to the side in curiosity.

"Dan, look at me," Phil says and Dan does so. The black haired stopped taking pictures. Dan's breathing rapidly, he realises, his pulse quickened by the little audience which gathered around them.

"Dan!" Phil raises his voice a little to get his attention. Dan fixes his eyes with him as he tries to steady his shaking hands, "Everything's fine, okay? Imagine they're not here. It's just you and me, okay, Dan?"

There's something so soothing in Phil's blue eyes, so warm that Dan nods and as he looks straight into the lens again, his breathing is steady.

He turns his head to his left and right a little, tilting his head now and then and making different expressions, depending on what Phil asks him to do. At one moment, he's so into it, the whole crowd that stressed him earlier now only makes him more courageous and brave.

"That's great, Dan!" Phil beams after good fifteen minutes of tilting, shaking, turning his head and making whole kinds of facial expressions, starting on sad, going through happy, scared to extremely mad.

"Maybe we could also take a few photos of your whole body? If that's fine with you," Phil adds, seeing the worry appearing on Dan's face the moment the words leave his mouth.

"I- I'm not sure," his voice trembles and he swallows heavily. He looks over at Phil and when he spots his encouraging smile, he nods sheepishly. "But I can always try, right?" he says which causes Phil to grin at him.

The blue eyes search in his bag for a minute, replacing the current lens with a new one. Dan wrinkles his forehead, wondering what is it supposed to do, but he decides to trust Phil's knowledge.

"Okay, now can you stand up?" Phil asks as the lens is finally placed on the camera. His eyes are smiling brightly too and Dan bites on his bottom lip, nodding as Phil's smile is literally giving him life.

They're shooting for over an hour when something happens. Dan feels so comfortable being in front of a camera, that by Phil's encouragement and applause, he feels the need to express his happiness. And he does the stupidest thing he could have done.

He jumps.

* * *

Wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, Dan holds the mug with a steaming hot chocolate tightly in his hands. His teeth are still chattering but less than they did just after he fell into that fountain with a big, loud _splash_.

In front of all those people...

"How are you feeling?" asks Phil worryingly as he walks up to him, kneeling in front of his shaking body.

"B- besides being embarrassed and stupid for humiliating myself in front of twenty strangers? Great," he stammers out, not meeting Phil's eye.

Phil smiles at him apologetically,

"I put your clothes into the dryer," he says and Dan only nods. Phil studies the brown haired for a moment. His body is shaking, and hundreds of goosebumps cover his skin. His brown hair is still damp, and Phil cracks a smile when he discovers a small flower of nenuphar between his locks.

"You've got flower in your hair," he explains as he brings his hand to get rid of the plant.

He freezes when he catches Dan looking straight at him.

"What?" he asks, pulling out the flower. Dan's brown pupils stare into his and Phil waggles his eyebrows, "Do I have something on my face?" and Dan lets out a breath.

He chuckles as he looks down at his hands, "No, it's just... it's nothing."

Phil cocks an eyebrow but doesn't ask questions.

A loud ding announces the photos finished ulpoading to his computer. Phil walks up to the desk and brings the laptop with him as he sits on the sofa, next to Dan.

Dan's breath hitches when his and Phil's knees brush. His face flushes and he takes a sip of his chocolate so he can't be seen.

"Okay, here we go," mutters Phil clicking on a folder with a tag _Dan_. It opens up with at least hundred pictures. He chooses the first one, and Dan cringes involuntarily at his image. "Look," Phil says as if Dan wasn't watching already, "in the beginning you were very tense and it's visible in the pictures."

Dan's face reddens as he looks at his own picture. He's nearly biting through his lip and he's so straightened up he's surprised he didn't break his back.

"Oh God, I'm awful," he mutters, glancing away as he sets the mug on the table. He hears a rustle as Phil turns to face him.

"No, you're not," he assures. "It's hard for everyone at the beginning, believe me. And you did great back there, though I wish you didn't get over excited at the end," he laughs and earns a playful jab from Dan.

"I was just very happy, okay!" he defends himself and Phil smiles at him.

"Are you sure you're okay and didn't twist your ankle?" Phil glances Dan over, checking for any injuries he didn't catch the first time he looked over him. Dan shakes his head.

"I'm fine," he claims. "Please, tell me there's something good in those pictures too," he pleads, looking through his fingers as he covers his red face.

Phil laughs, already clicking through the photos.

"I don't want my dignity to suffer for nothing," he mumbles and Phil giggles.

"Don't worry, look at this," he points at the picture he showed Dan earlier. "I guess you can sense how uncomfortable with the camera you are on this picture. Your muscles are all tense and you're too worried about the camera. Now look at that one," Phil orders as he opens up next tab with another photo of Dan. "Here you're acting much better. You are relaxed and you're not caring about the audience or the camera," he explains and Dan finds himself staring at him without care in the world.

How long has it been since he's known Phil? How long has he been staring dumbly at this picture of a God?

"Look," he clicks on the computer, playing a slide show. "Those pictures were taken in two minutes and you can clearly see how you slowly become more comfortable in front of the camera." The desktop changes with pictures but all Dan can see is Phil.

Phil with his silvery voice. Phil looking at him through the camera lens. Phil convincing him to be his model. Phil staring at him worriedly as he scrambles out of the fountain, soaked and freezing. Phil talking with passion about photography. Phil smiling widely at his bad jokes. Phil's encouraging words when they were taking pictures. Confessing he wants Dan, only Dan, because there is something special about him.

He looks at Phil once again, at his pink lips moving as he brags on about how the session went well, at his black fringe, messily swept to the side from when Phil ran his hand too many times through it as he asked him once and once again if Dan didn't want to go to the A&E. Dan admires his blue eyes so similar to the ocean. Did he forget to mention he could totally drown in them and not mind it at all?

Putting his hand on Phil's shoulder, he gently pulls him in closer. They're so close and Phil's so beautiful, he can't make the same mistake again. Dan glances down at Phil's lips briefly to look into his blue eyes again. They're wide in surprise and Phil's mouth is opened, from pausing in half sentence, but it turns into a soft smile soon as Phil understands what the brown haired is thinking about.

Phil nods eagerly at Dan, giving him permission, and Dan's heart skips a beat or two in happiness. His own face forms into a big smile as he leans in slowly. Their noses bump and they both laugh before Phil puts his hand on the back of Dan's neck and pulls him in again. As he closes the little distance between them, Dan's earlier pounding heart calms down, as though it finally found its home.

The kiss is sweet and full of affection the two boys so hardly tried to hide. They find each other's lips easily, as though they were made to be together. Dan smells of chocolate and Phil smiles to himself when he comes across the pierced metal. It sends pleasurable shivers through his body and he puts his other hand's fingers' on Dan's cheek, caressing it lightly.

Dan feels like he's in Heaven and he melts into the kiss, giving all the power to Phil as he merely wraps his arms around his warm body. Phil's lips move against his perfectly and he wants the moment to last forever. However, after a while, they part. Dan's breathing heavily, looking down,

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just sorta wanted to do this since I've seen you-" he mumbles frantically. "Oh gosh!" he squeaks, realising what he's said and Phil looks at him from under half lidded eyes. Dan's face is flushed and he looks everywhere but at him. And he has no reason to be embarrassed.

Phil delicately grabs his face in his hands and brings it closer to his, planting a short, reassuring kiss on Dan's tattling lips. They freeze the moment they feel Phil's mouth on them and the black haired smiles,

"I kinda wanted to do that since I've seen you for the first time, too, you know," he whispers in between another kiss, his breath hot and voice husky, making Dan shudder. "I just never had the certainty you would want it too."

"Well," Dan's mind is hazy as he speaks, "I guess you know now."

"Yeah, I do," he agrees, smiling as he rubs a thumb over his cheek and Dan's leaning into the touch slightly. Dan opens his eyes, a dreamy look written on his face.

He blinks rapidly as he realises what just happened.

Phil's forehead wrinkles as he spots the brown haired tensing up, "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks quickly. He wants to make sure the boy is feeling well and he's not regretting their kiss even though he was the one initiating it.

"I- I am," he whispers, staring directly into his eyes. "I just," he pauses, not finding the words for how he's feeling.

Happy? Confused as hell? Worried? _Loved?_

"I've never been with a guy before," he admits, "I've never been this close with anyone before," he explains, turning bright red. What if Phil thinks he's a total newbie? Not having kissed anyone even though he's nearly eighteen? Does that mean he's wrong?

"Ohh..." is all that leaves Phil's mouth and Dan looks down at the sofa. He was right. There is something wrong about him, definitely wrong about him. He's some kind of weirdo, who normal hasn't kissed anyone yet by age seventeen and half?

"Dan, it's okay," Phil speaks, lifting his chin so he can look into his brown chocolate eyes. "We won't do anything you're not comfortable with. If..." he pauses, a slight tremor in his voice, "if you want to do anything. If you want us to be anything."

"No, I want to, Phil," he answers quickly, the words coming right out of his heart. "This is just really new to me, but I want us to be _something_ ," he assures, wondering what 'something' would be in their case. They've known each other for too short to become boyfriends but too long to be _just friends._ And as much as Dan's inexperienced he knows they definitely can't call themselves friends with benefits either. Which makes them... which makes them what, exactly?

"Do you want us to," Phil gesticulates, glancing at him awkwardly, "try this out? And see where it goes?"

"Yeah," Dan nods, agreeing. He definitely has no idea what can turn out of this but he's eager to find out. "But no pressure, okay?" he adds. "No 'we need to make this work' and that sort of crap. Let's just see how it goes and then we can decide what we are, alright?"

Phil nods in agreement, "So, are we giving ourselves the time to figure us out till my session is wrapped up? Is that it?"

Dan looks to his left and right, thinking for a while.

"Yeah, it seems like it," he agrees at last.

"So deal?" Phil takes out his hand and Dan stares at it for a moment before he pulls out his own.

They shake hands and Dan smiles at him, "Deal."

* * *

 _ **Hey everyone! I thought I'd give you this lil present ;)**_

 _ **Have a good Friday! (hope you liked the pheelings ^^)**_


	13. Chapter 13

This idiot can't be grinning whole day like this to himself, oh no.

He takes long strides towards the brown-haired boy, wearing an angry expression on his face. Though as he approaches him, the anger turns into a fake smile,

"Aww, look! Our little Dan is all happy and butterflies!" he sings, his voice thick with mockery.

Dan furrows his brows when he hears the voice. Michael's voice. He looks over at him immediately as if expecting the man to throw a blade at him. Which in fact, is fairly close to his expectations. Ever since 'the accident', Dan's been looking around himself when at work, to make sure Michael isn't lurking anywhere behind him in the dark.

He's seriously scared of his boss.

"You think I forgot you were late? That I didn't see it?" Michael sneers at him and Dan's smile falters.

He swallows hardly as he replies, stammering out,

"B- But that was a week ago! And only twenty minutes!" he can't stop the terror from getting into his voice, making it sound shaky and high-pitched.

Michael's smile grows as he notices that Dan is actually shaking slightly. And it's _him_ who made so much impression on the boy.

His boss takes a step forward and Dan takes in a breath as he gets uncomfortably close to his face,

"I'm cutting you off your pay, sweetie," he informs, studying his face for a brief moment. He expects Dan to retort with some clever remark but the brown haired only swallows harder, saying nothing. Michael smiles to himself as he thinks he taught the boy well.

Only as he's near the door, around ten feet away from Dan, only then the boy speaks up,

"You never pay us for the extra hours we make," he protests, standing straighter to appear braver but his voice fails him as it cracks at the end.

Michael throws him an evil glance, his lips raising in a smirk at the little of what's left of Dan's warriorhood. He's gonna break him soon. The boy will yet beg him to take him to this job. Only now the boy doesn't appreciate what he has. Because he so often forgets he can lose it in any moment.

"Don't forget thanks to whom you have money at all," he reminds him. Dan's skin turns a few shades paler.

Michael knows one of the most important problems on the boy's mind; to have a job and make money. He's well aware of his bad financial situation, but he's not gonna be his help or a nanny. He wanted to work here, illegally, then he has to abide his rules. And treat him with respect.

The little pup won't do whatever he wants to, Michael will make sure of it.

"Don't fuck with me, Dan," he growls and Dan bits on his bottom lip, hanging his head low. "You know you'll lose anyway."

With that, his boss is gone and Dan only wishes he could be in Phil's arms. To feel protected, loved and like whole world wasn't on his shoulders. He wonders if that is ever possible. Will Phil forgive him for lying to him about everything, will he still feel the same way about him after knowing the truth?

Dan lets out a shaky, long held breath as he realises he has no idea, and the thought scares him.

* * *

Although the little quarrel with Michael did lessened Dan's mood, it couldn't deprive him off of it completely. The brown haired was simply too joyful to be bothered for long by Michael's threats. Phil's lips on his and the little arrangement they made, was still fresh in his mind. And Dan was happy. Very happy, to say the least. Which was noticed by Kevin right away,

"Why are you acting like you ate a whole rainbow, dude?"

Dan nearly rolls his eyes at his friend's observations,

"Oh shush," he retorts. Dan sits on the sofa and he takes in a breath before he blurts out quickly, "Because we kissed."

His cheeks flare a screaming red colour and Kevin grins, having noticed Dan's good but now also a little flustered mood. He decides he may be a little ass about it. After all, it's not so often he gets to joke around with his friend,

"Like the last time? When you didn't actually kiss?" Dan sneers at him and Kev throws his head back in laughter. How he loves teasing him.

"How was it?" he asks as he regains his composure. His hands support his head as he looks up at Dan with curiosity. The brown haired smiles to himself as though he recalls a memory in his mind.

"Well, I was wet-"

"Dude, you don't tell another dude something like that!" he points out, his face scrunched up in disgust and Dan giggles.

"I fell into a fountain earlier, you dumbass," he explains and facepalms as Kev lets out an understanding 'ohhh'. "And speaking of kiss. The kiss was..." he pauses, thinking back of the day, "it was perfect. It was nice and sweet and lovely and just... perfect."

Kevin's smile grows. He's jubilant for Dan and Phil. He only hopes this relationship won't end badly. It would be a shame if problems occured because of the dark that Dan keeps everyone in. Kevin sometimes wonders if the boy remembers what is true and what is fake. He himself, he's sure, would get lost in the web of lies very quickly.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" his voice raises and as Dan flinches visibly, he makes a mental note to talk with him about Dick The Boss again and make sure the bastard isn't letting himself on too many things.

"What did you forget?" Dan asks as his friend stares at him in a deep pondering.

"Steph is moving in," he announces shortly and Dan's mouth falls open for a good moment.

"When's the wedding?" is the first question he asks though and Kev throws a shoe at him. The brown haired squints from it in the last second.

"She's only gonna live here for a while. Her flatmate left and it's too much for her to pay for the rent alone. When she looks up some nice place, she'll be gone," he says and Dan nods.

"I have to meet your future wife," he sums up and Kev's eyes grow big.

"Well, first bring Phil around some time!" he retorts in defense and Dan snorts with laughter. "What's up, Dan? What's going on with Dick The Boss?" he shoots, point-blank.

Dan's forehead wrinkles, "You mean Mi- my boss?" he stops himself from revealing Michael's name in the last second. Kevin squints his eyes at the visible hesitation but nods anyway.

"We- it's fine, really. He didn't do anything to me."

"Not yet," Kev mutters to himself but to Dan, he says, "Is that really nothing, Dan? You're shaking every time I raise my voice. You can't trick me and convince me it's a normal physical reaction. So what's wrong?" he questions, his words laced with worry.

Dan's mouth frowns in a grimace,

"I can't tell you."

Kevin freezes. That one he didn't expect to hear at all.

To other people, yes, but to him? Kevin and Dan are friends nearly since the beginning!

"What do you mean?"

"It just, it doesn't matter, Kev, OK?" he looks up at him with pain in his brown eyes. "Anything we say right now, it won't matter in the end because Mi- he truly has me wrapped around his finger! I can't go to the police, Kev! The most they'd do would be to lock me up for 'kidnapping' Nat, you know it! So, if we talk it out now or not at all, it doesn't matter. It won't change how things are," he finishes with thickness in his throat. He clenches his eyes tightly.

The tears won't come, no, he won't be crying. He can handle it. He can do it.

"You know, you're right," Kevin agrees, folding his hands on his lap and leaning in. "Talking things out won't change anything but keeping them bottled up inside won't neither! I know I can't help you directly, send that bastard a few rightful punches, but at least I can help you carry the weight you have," Dan glances up at him, his eyes teary. No single drop falls down though.

"I know that you're going through a lot, Dan. I can see it. And I wanna help you. That's what friends are for, right?"

Dan stares at Kevin for a longer moment before he nods solemnly.

Maybe keeping everything to himself isn't a particularly good idea, but... he has his reasons for the fear that gnaws his heart. His friends let him down in the past but, what's in the past stays there, right? Dan thinks that maybe, just maybe, it's time to trust someone. He can't win a world by himself, after all.

* * *

 _ **Have a good Sunday! We're coming to an end slowly, fasten your seatbelts, muchachos! ;)**_

 _ **As always, I appreciate your comments, just love you guys :3**_


	14. Chapter 14

The alarm goes off abruptly and painfully loud to his ears. Slamming his fist on it and snoozing the annoying sound, he scrunches his eyes at the light poking at his eyelids. He wishes he didn't have those nightmares.

 _She's angry. At him. A stupid dog-_

Running a hand through his black hair, he sighs heavily looking at the date on his phone.

It's the day. The day his whole life has been turned upside down.

 _Two years ago. It feels surreal. Like they fought only yesterday._

He checks for any text messages or emails but there's nothing. The alarm bites into his skull once again, reminding him to get up and Phil growls at it, putting his feet on the cold floor.

He turns off the alarm, rubbing at his blue, tired eyes. He makes his way into the bathroom to take a brisk refreshing shower. Letting out a long breath, he lets the water wash away any sleepiness he previously felt. It hits him again, that it's _the_ day and he gulps heavily.

 _Jessie was so angry, she-_

Leaving the bathroom quickly to stop his mind from drifting away completely, Phil dries his hair on his way to the kitchen. He can't get the memories out of his head though, no matter how many times he shakes it.

Staring blankly at his open fridge, he realises his throat is so tightened, he won't be able to eat anything.

 _The bar. He found her at the bar._

Slamming it shut, Phil grabs his keys and bag, snatching his books on his way out. He takes two steps at a time, putting his coat on. A lift would give him too much time for thinking and his mind could go in the dark places he would rather not like to recall.

He's finally on the ground floor. Although a little flushed from running nine floors, but at least his mind was occupied with something else. He passes by his neighbor, smiling slightly at the old lady and greeting her friendly,

"Good morning, Philip!"

"Good morning, m'am. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" he chats her up, opening his pillar box and glancing inside.

"Yes, it is!" the lady smiles at him but frowns. "Is something wrong, Philip? You look tired," she states, noticing the huge bags under his eyes.

Phil shakes his head, flashing her a weak, merely dead smile, "No, everything's alright! I had a tough study night, is all!"

The lady nods altough she wears an unconvinced expression on her face.

"Well, take care, Philip! Don't forget to sleep in between each sessions!"

Phil waves at her, stepping into the sunny outside. Hiding the letters into his bag, he jogs to get onto the tube faster.

He doesn't want to think about it.

 _She was drunk. She wouldn't listen. He knew it was going to be a bad idea._

* * *

The crowd feels like he's hitting a hard concrete wall. Each person he accidentally pokes, touches, makes him jump away instantly and apologise earnestly. The world seems to be spinning in its regular rhythm, yet it's hard for Phil to fit into it. He feels like a fish, taken away from their home-pond and thrown into a fake aquarium, with unknown waters and unfamiliar faces.

 _The night was dark, streets were slippery from the pouring rain._

Taking in deep breaths, he tries to calm down. Although everything inside him is frantically running in uneven circles. The thoughts bump into each other and he wants to rip his own head off, doubtful if even that could help the mess in his mind. He scrunches his eyes shut at the pain the memories bring. He wishes that day never happened, wishes the situation could end in a different way and with much less serious consequences. How much bad can a simple argument cause. Before the accident, Phil was sure the most awful scenario in his head would be breaking up, but he changed his mind when the fate chose a whole new answer to that question.

Phil feels he's being pulled away and he jerks at the firm grip on his coat. He wants to break free of the stranger's hands on him. A second later, a car passses by, speeding quickly. Stopping immediately, the blue eyed turns to face whoever wants his wallet. A man in his forties is standing before him, a firm grip on Phil's jacket. Phil jerks away to get the man's hands off of himself but the man only grasps more.

"Gotta be more careful, boy," the man explains, pointing to the stop lights for the pedestrians. Phil looks up at the red light. It's glistening an evil promise of being hurt if anyone dares not to listen to its advice.

Phil stares for a second before he stops trashing and trying to break free. Nodding, he smiles with gratitude to the stranger although a thought crosses his mind that if the man hasn't stopped him, Phil didn't have to live with the weighing guilt.

 _She didn't listen when he told her she shouldn't be driving._

* * *

The doors flip open with full force and everyone's eyes turn toward the black haired boy who crosses the door. He's panting, his hair is a mess but as he glances at the people staring back at him, literally freezed in their action, some stopped talking, he swallows and tries to fix his appearance right away.

Walking through the main hall, his eyes are fixed to the floor as the eerie silence hurts his ears more than the morning alarm did. Thank God one person coughs and that single sound is as close to hitting a 'repause' button as it could be.

The stopped babble starts again, people walk into their direction, flip through their books, start discussing with all their hearts different topics and problems. Phil sighs, correcting the strap on his bag and fixing his fringe. He's almost behind the corner when a loud,

"Phhhiiiiil!" erupts through the whole main hall.

Phil swears under his breath, turning around on his heels. PJ strides toward him, Chris following close behind. The boy is clinging to PJ as if he's holding for his dear life and PJ rolls his eyes which makes Phil chuckle.

The boys walk up to Phil, Chris dramatically hanging on PJ like he's his only lifeline. The comedian places a kiss on PJ's cheek and the other blushes furiously,

"Chris!" he hisses. Chris rolls his eyes but lets go at last. "Are you alright, Phil?" he eyes him carefully.

Phil nods, looking down, "Yeah, yeah, I'm just a little late for my lecture, I gotta go..."

PJ notices how his friend shirks an honest talk, but he's not pushing. He knows how hard the day will be for his friend. He only wishes Phil would like to reach out for help to him. He is more than willing to help him. But Phil doesn't want his help and PJ doesn't think a forced talk is something they both would want.

"Okay, I'll talk to you later, right?" he asks, eyeing him worriedly.

Phil's voice breaks slightly as he answers,

"Okay."

* * *

He has plenty of time before his lecture actually starts. He shuts himself in the bathroom, away from people. He doesn't want to face them, at all, but he knows he can't be hiding in here forever, he has to go on his classes eventually. For as long as he can though, he's going to hide in the bathroom.

And so that's how Phil spends his next forty minutes. Sitting on the toilet seat, reading through his notes. He nearly tosses the papers away in frustration as his mind doesn't let him focus on the neatly written words.

All he can think of is _the_ day, that fucking day when everything went to hell.

 _A brown haired girl kept shouting at him as Phil held his hands up in a sign of surrender. He couldn't remember everything she said, her words faded-out but the pain they caused is the one he will never be able to forget._

 _He only wanted to help, not hurt her. She should know about it._

 _She didn't. And it was all his fault._

Walking out a minute before the bell will go off, he closes his eyes tightly as he stumbles upon someone. For once in this day he could just slip past unnoticed, couldn't he?!

It's Brandon. Merely enough and so much at the same time. He's a funny person and a good photographer, too. But all Phil wants is for no one to bother him today, is all he asks for.

"Oi, Phil!" the blond exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. "How is the not perfect idea going?" he asks as they stand by the wall, near their lecture room.

Phil laughs, hoping it sounds honest. Brandon doesn't know anything about his past, and it would be unfair if Phil took out his anger on him.

"Perfectly," he retorts and Brandon laughs at his answer.

"It's all it wasn't supposed to be, dude!" he pokes him in the side and Phil closes his eyes as the move triggers a memory tucked really deep to appear above the surface.

 _The sounds stopped at last when the car stopped rolling. Jessie didn't shout at him anymore. But she didn't respond, too._

"Oh, we're going in!" Brandon's voice pulls him out from his thoughts. Phil's head shoots up to Mr Takkyo opening the door of the lecture room. Students start filling the class, and Brandon turns to him, waving at Phil,

"Come on, mate!" Brandon says as he quickly slides inside just before the door closes.

Phil stays outside the room for just a little longer though. He tries taking in deep breaths. It has close to no effect on the jungle in his mind. No way he's able to go in there and act as if he's fine. It's impossible. But it's just not gonna happen for him to skip Mr Takkyo's lecture. He can't let down another person. And he can't let down his father even more than he already has with being absent. And so when he manages his breathing so that he doesn't look like a scared animal, he steps into the class room silently.

It feels like the lecture drags on for hours for Phil's distaste. He listens, he _tries_ to listen carefully to Mr Takkyo. He takes notes, but as he looks at his ntoebook, he can't really understand what he just noted down. He even pinches his hand hard to focus on Mr Takkyo's voice but his mind is being haunted with so dark thoughts, no sun peaking through the blackness created in his head, that he nearly slams his head into the desk with exasperation.

Those aren't thoughts _,_ he corrects himself, but memories. Which make it ten thousand times worse. Thoughts are, after all, creations of our own minds. Often, exaggerated and sometimes not even true. But memories... Memories are real and that's what gives them the power and dominance over our thoughts. With being real, not imagined by our creation. We're the ones who make both of them, though memories are carved into our souls. Thoughts stay merely in our minds.

His fist is clenched tightly and the pencil he has in his hand breaks in two. Everyone's eyes turn toward his desk and Phil knows he has to do something. React. Speak up. Explain himself. Anything.

But he knows what he needs to do.

He has to get out. Now.

The room feels hot, as if every pair of eyes warms his body temperature one Celsius more. His mouth dry, he croaks out, rising his hand so as to ask a question,

"C- can I go out, sir? I'm not feeling really well."

Mr Takkyo's slightly slanting eyes study him quetioningly and for a second Phil thinks he'll be made to stay in this too hot room, with too many sets of eyes on him, ready to find out what puts the perfect Phil off the edge.

The professor nods silently in the second Phil thinks he'll start wailing right and there from the intensity with which all the memories try to make their way through the wall he put in his mind. Phil doesn't need more encouragement from Mr Takkyo. He gathers his books quickly, hands shaking as he says his silent thanks to his professor. Phil nearly runs out of the lecture room, the intense gazes of at least twenty students still lingering in his mind as he crosses the road hastily, trying to get away. Get away from those memories.

Get away from himself.

* * *

He steps from one foot to the other as the lift takes him higher. Only two more floors. Staring at the red buttons, as if he could hurry them this way.

The very awaited _ding_ causes him to jump from impatience. He doesn't like the lack of replies he keeps receiving instead of a message from his friend. He wouldn't think much of it. Any other day and he would simply blame it on Phil being too busy being nerd with another photographing project or feeling inspiration and painting like crazy, cut away from civilisation, as much as sitting in an empty apartment in front of an easel can be called 'cut away from civilisation'.

Any other day and it would be fine, normal. But not on this day.

PJ almost trips over his own legs as the lift stops. He sprints toward Phil's flat, calling Phil once again on the phone but the action only leads him to the voice message. PJ only hopes the black haired didn't do anything stupid.

"Phil?!" he yells, banging on the door which opens up slightly under his pressure. His throat tightens as he pushes the door open and slowly steps through the doorframe, inspecting the hallway. The only out of place thing he notices is the open door of the studio and he steps toward the room.

"Phil?" he calls out again, peeking into the room. There are the usual photography magazines laying on the coffee table. The laptop is opened up on an editing program, but looks abandoned as if Phil's work was interrupted abruptly.

Phil would never leave his work only half finished.

"Phil, you there?"

No one answers.

His breath catches in his throat as a terrifying thought pops into his mind. Taking the few steps that separates him from the bathroom, PJ lets out a relieved sigh that there's no one in the room.

PJ returns to the hall again, slowly coming closer to the lounge.

Everywhere is a mess. Phil's old paintings he has always been so proud of lay on the floor, frames broken, the glass shattered. It's not what Phil would do, PJ repeats in his mind, someone must have broken in, there's just no way Phil was the one to do this.

PJ's heart melts though and his mind goes blank when he clocks the balcony doors are opened, the translucent curtain moving along with the wind. Brandon's words come back to him, about Phil's odd behavior, his sudden abandonment on Uni that made lots of foreheads to wrinkle in wonder as to what was going on.

And PJ knew what it was, he knew what it was, yet he chose to let it go. Sweep it under a rug though he knew well the reason behind this.

"Phil..." he nearly hears himself whisper.

And just then, something stirs.

Peej looks over to the two black sofas and Phil's black fringe comes up from above the back rest, followed by his blue but so sad eyes.

"PJ, I-" he only says, looking down at his lap and PJ goes around the sofa quickly, kneeling by his friend's side instantly. Phil's eyes are red and he's hugging a brown pillow closely to his chest. His knuckles are bruised and PJ puts two and two together, glancing at the shattered frames.

"I'm sorry," Phil creaks out, avoiding any eye contact.

"It's fine, Phil," he assures him, glad his friend is all okay. Kinda.

After the blue eyed finally lets him look over his hands, PJ says nothing. He doesn't need any explanation, having experienced the process two times already, year after year, on the same day. In dfferent intensities, different places but all caused by the same reason, as if nothing really changed since that misfortunate car drive two years ago.

"I called her," Phil speaks at one moment and Peej stares at him, forehead wrinkled.

He knows what he's going to hear next, but it still brings a pang into his heart, seeing the hurt look reflecting his friend's state of soul,

"She hung up."

The curly-haired looks down, biting on his bottom lip. He hates that his friend feels this way, year after year. When nothing of this was his fault.

"It wasn't your fault, Phil."

"It was, believe me," he disagrees, giving him this stern look he receives. Year after year.

"No, it wasn't! You couldn't do anything about it. It was her decision."

Phil sighs, glancing down, "Then whose fault was it?" he mutters, more to himself as he observes his hands carefully, as though they could help him solve this Enigma. "I was the one who drove her to the state I found her in," he tells PJ, fixing eyes with the brunet.

Peej stares at Phil in silence. Knowing he's not able to change his friend's way of thinking, he stands up from his kneeling-in-front-of Phil position to disappear into the kitchen for a few minutes. He doesn't come back till he finds a towel, makes some hot tea and plasters a smile on his face.

"It's freezing cold in here. Drink," he hands Phil the steaming mug which the black haired holds close to himself.

"Thanks," Phil mumbles, looking down as PJ closes the balcony door and crosses the room to carefully pick up the shattered glass.

"You're welcome," he grins at Phil, hoping to see just a ghost of a smile, at least a slight rise of his mouth. Nothing happens.

Throwing away the biggest glass from the floor, the room falls into silence again. The shards in the bin, Phil speaks up, glancing in their direction with a thoughtful look on his face. PJ looks up at him, studying his face with attention. Something changes in his expression. His lips set into a thin line, a grimace passes over his features like he has just remembered the sour taste of a lemon,

"Two years and I still can't deal with it," he laughs bitterly, his words laced with mockery.

PJ knits his eyebrows. What happened with Jessica was horrible, most because all the fault was thrown onto Phil when in fact, he was the least to blame for the accident.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Phil. You tried to fix it, tried to stop her from driving."

"But I should have snatched her stupid keys!" Phil's tone raises, his grip on the mug tightens.

"You really couldn't do anything, Phil," he whispers, purposefully choosing not to shout, but stay calm. Phil flinches at the words. They must be the hard truth he doesn't want to let himself finally believe in.

"You shouldn't blame yourself."

"But I do." Phil replies quickly. Peej looks at him and the boy glances away, his eyes jumping around the room frantically, away from the curly-haired's.

"Why?" he asks.

The question looks to be like a water flooding a small village, no one expecting it in a summer season. Phil's face scrunches up in a grimace of pain and hurt. It's like watching all those poor people trying to scramble the highest they can on rooftops of their tiny homes, higher from ground but not high enough to avoid the wave.

They would scream in terror, the dark water rushing at them with a low growl of threat. They would know what was going to happen, they would all know the enormous momentum can't be stopped. Yet, they would still keep looking for somewhere higher, throwing looks full of hope toward the nearest tree.

As they would have noticed they don't stand a chance getting there safely before the wave, they would abandon their wishes. The oldest ones would smile at their loved ones, soothe the young ones, as if everyone was going to be okay. The people would all take in a breath in the same moment, united in the last second of being together before the water would come crashing into them with its full force.

Phil bits on his bottom lip hard, drawing in a panicked breath, trying to keep his emotions at bay. He closes his eyes tightly and PJ thinks it's almost the same if he were to watch those helpless people. Fighting against a flood. Not that of water, but a flood of tears and emotions, so often kept at bay that it was natural that one day the wall wouldn't be enough to hold them. It would start crumbling because the water became too much and the water just needed some way out.

The damage lays deep in Phil's mind, so deep that any other person wouldn't be able to see past through the facade, the act Phil puts on every day, his wall.

But Peej isn't other people, he knows Phil like the back of his hand. He can see right through his facade, he can tell which emotions are fake and which are true just by the slight shaking of his right hand ad the way his left eyelid trembles ever so slightly, barely visibly. He can tell that Phil's wall is crumbling and his flood is about to give out any moment.

"I- ever since the legal case, my father hadn't spoken a word to me," Phil confesses, quickly looking down at the mug in his hands. He takes a sip and glances to the side, breathing out deeply and shakily as if he was a balloon deprived of air. Slack and too small to defend itself from sharp spikes of roses around it.

"He never told me why. He just," he swallows hardly, eyeing PJ for a brief moment as if to make sure he's not bothering him too much with his problems, "he didn't call again. I- I _know_ ," he says with so much pressure but at the same time, so much despair in his voice that PJ wonders if he believes his own words or if he wants to believe in them, "I _know_ I brought too much shame onto the family. I _know_ I dishonoured their good name and reputation, and I understand why he wouldn't want to have anything in common with me. I wouldn't, if that was possible," he mumbles into the mug quietly and PJ opens his mouth to cut in and say something positive, explain to Phil on how many wrong levels his thinking is. How much he isn't responsible for that night's accident.

But Phil goes on, maybe not noticing or just no longer being able to listen to that,

"How am I even supposed to forgive myself, Peej, huh? When my own father doesn't want to speak to me?" he asks, staring at him with no expectation to hear an answer that would tell him precisely where he can look for a brush big enough to clean up the mess, but at the same time as though he craved for someone to just hand it to him or at least give him a hint.

Phil coughs a few times. Tears brim in his eyes and he looks down quickly, wiping them off with the back of his hand,

"It doesn't matter, after all," he states, laughing bitterly. "What happened, happened, and it's too late to change it. But if I could..." he trails off suddenly.

"Then what?" PJ asks, sparing worried glances in Phil's direction.

"She wouldn't be driving."

* * *

 _ **Hey, lovelies! Just two more proper chapters left! Plus, an epilogue!**_

 ** _Hold tight, dears, it's going to be a wild ride!_**

 ** _Thanks for all the comments, they make my day/night ^^_**


	15. Chapter 15

"Do we really need to do this?"

"Oh, come on, _Dan_ , it's gonna be fun!"

"Yeah, riiight, because last time we did something fun, it ended well."

"Just shush it, don't be so against it! And hurry up, we're gonna miss our train!"

Dan only rolls his eyes in response, but obeys and sets off a quicker pace. Not only a few days ago, they confessed feeling 'something' for each other. Dan doesn't know the ending of this, he's not sure if his decision is right or if it's only going to split them apart.

How many people actually stayed with him after getting to know the whole truth about him? None, so far. Well, excluding Kevin. But Kevin was with Dan from the beginning. And he sure as hell didn't have a sweet-honey life as Phil seems to have. But does that mean Dan can deprive him of empathy just like that? Only because it _feels like_ Phil's biggest concern could be forgetting about his groceries or getting a low note on uni, it doesn't really _need to be_ like that in reality.

Dan knows only a few people of this type; the constant sunshines, beaming with happiness on their every step, always staying positive or at least jokingly sarcastic. And as cynical as it may sound, those people often turn out to be some of the most hidden humans possible.

He remembers one boy in particular, from back when he was in school. His colleague seemed like a very open person. Never lying and like he needed to spill all of his thoughts and opinions to people surrounding him.

However, when one sunny day the police came into the school and asked students questions about Jamie, Dan sensed something wasn't right. All of what was interesting the officers, was if their colleague had told them about some kind of abuse happening in his house, and if they knew about bad relations in his home.

The answer from Dan was of course, no. He didn't know anything about abuse, in fact, he would never suspect Jamie could be going through horror every day of his life. Thinking he knew Jamie so well he could write a biography about him, turned out to be a naive thought. His friend, who he thought he knew so well, held many secrets away from anyone's interest with his bright appearance and kind smile.

Dan has also became this kind of a person at one point in his life. Unlike Phil though, he definitely isn't the sunshine, sweet cookie type, because life taught him. That if he looks innocent, it's the best sign for those around him that he is an easy target. Easy to rob, easy to hurt, easy to play with.

So when he made friends with a sacrastic tattooist Ben, Dan knew what would give him the protection he and his little sister so much needed.

Dan always loved tattooes, as a fourteen year-old he watched pictures of them with fascination but he never expected he would get one. Well, not at age sixteen, at least.

But life surpises everyone. And Dan found himself in Ben's tattoo studio one day, practically begging his friend on his knees. Using his puppy eyes and still boyish appearance, which both did wonders, he convinced Ben he _needed those pictures really badly because otherwise he would be screwed_ , as sixteen year-old Dan put it.

And though the enormous effort he put into them; the extra hours at work he needed to take for around 5 months and the pain of each tattoo inked into his skin he must had taken, it was definitely worth the effect.

As he stepped out of Ben's tattoo studio, just after he got his last tattoo that Ben agreed to do, the looks he received from people were exactly what he was looking for. Strangers would always get too curious about him, a little boy walking through the streets at late in the night or early morning hours. But since his arms became a little art gallery, their reason of worry changed drastically. They shot worried glances in his direction, but as soon as he turned his head toward them, they looked anywhere but at him.

He scares people now, he knows it. No one would like to question him nowadays about if his parents are around, and no one, for the most important part, would recognise the seventy and half year old teen inside him.

He finally gained the extra shield he, as a run away, needed.

Cashiers working at a store also stopped giving him puzzled looks. They no longer felt like they've seen Dan from the TV's missing people reports.

Sleeping in really shady places, renting shitty but overpriced flats so the landlord overlooked the lack of his ID? Paying big money for a house visit when Nat got sick and for prescribing the right medication? Been there, done that.

Phil has no idea what it's like to have a crappy life. And so far, everyone -nearly everyone, if he doesn't count Kevin- abandoned him, cut any sort of contact with him or at least hated him after finding out about his crappy life.

And what if it's gonna be exactly the same with Phil? Is it going to be totally useless? All the work they're putting into trying to figure _them_ out? Just because Dan is some run away with bad past?

Dan laughs bitterly to his thoughts, _A runaway? That's nothing big!_

"Daaan, _come_ _ **on**_!" Phil shouts at him, tugging at his hand. The brown-haired's cheeks turn slightly red as only now he realises his hand is in Phil's. He doesn't look him in the eye, feeling the hotness on his face. "What were you daydreaming about?"

Dan stumbles over his feet and for a second, he's sure he's gonna fall down. That is before Phil pulls him closer, helping to keep his balance. Dan's cheeks burn accusingly,

"Oh, you know, stuff," he replies bluntly, attempting not to let his attention wander off because of the close proximity between him and Phil. He can't be so damn near Phil, for everyone's sake.

"Oh, what stuff?" Phil chats up, surely meaning well, trying to start a conversation. To Dan though, it feels like someone just shone a blinding light into his face and demanded honest answers.

"All kinds of stuff," he replies briefly. His pulse quickens when he catches Phil scrunching his eyes and he decides to turn the talk onto different tracks immediately, "You still haven't told me where we're going," he pouts, a slight accusation in his words.

He hates manipulating Phil like that, but he doesn't think it's a topic he wants to bring up. He's not ready to share his pile of crap with Phil, like he shares cookies with Nat. No, he needs time and the most important of all, needs to think it through. If it's worth it, how big is the chance that Phil, the righteous man, will call cops on him and Natalie. No, he's not gonna expose his little sister to any kind of threat. They could take her away from him. And what would happen next? Only worst case scenarios are playing in his head.

"Will you provide me with an answer or do you want to hold me in the dark until you decide it's cool for me to know you're not trying to kidnap me?" Dan jokes, hoping he doesn't sound so tense. But Phil chuckles, shaking his head and the brown-haired mentally sighs in relief at the realisation Phil took the bait.

"You just blowed my cover!" Phil jokes and Dan laughs as his tongue pokes out of his mouth in a childish but absolutely adorable manor. If anyone else attempted to do this, they would either look ridiculous or straight out stupid. But Phil... He pulls the look absolutely.

"Would you let me kidnap you though, Dan?" Phil asks, all seriousness in his eyes and Dan has to blink twice before he looks over at him again. "I'm just joking!" he explains, squeezing his hand lightly. Dan feels the need to roll his eyes at least hundred times but Phil's attempts at making a good joke are really cute. Most of the time.

"I asked my friend to help us in choosing the wardrobe for you for the session," Phil explains.

"Are you sure you're not spending too much money on it? After all, it's just a session."

"But it's an important one!" he exclaims and Dan cocks an eyebrow. He's about to ask why, but just then Phil pulls him after himself, his voice a little panicked, "Our train is just here! Let's hurry!"

* * *

Once they scramble out of the train they are greeted by a blonde vigorously waving at them. The girl's smile is wide and frank, her eyes holding a glint of positive craziness. She squeezes Dan's hand as they approach, a grip so strong he wouldn't suspect to find in a girl as petite as her. He registers a strong Northern accent in her voice as she speaks,

"Hi! You must be Dan then!" she exclaims, beaming at both of them.

"Yes, and you are...?" he asks, unsure, hoping he doesn't come off as rude.

"Oh, Phil didn't tell you about his bestest friend?!" her face scrunches in disbelief and for a split second Dan flinches, expecting to hear an insult or a slur directed toward him. However, when Phil walks up to them the girl only launches herself at him, closing the boy in a tight embrace.

Dan feels stupid right away, cursing at his boss for making him so insecure whenever he speaks up.

"Phil! 'S been a while!" the girl opens her arms in an inviting gesture, grinning at the black-haired as she waits for him to walk up to them.

"Hey Caith!" he greets her friendly, hugging her. "How's it going?" he asks, stepping away to get a better look at her.

"Oh, ya know, same old stuff," she shrugs, making a bored expression. It changes the second she speaks again, "I've turned my application in to The Bella's Beauty though," her eyes are lit up with excitement and Phil's lips form into a smile.

"They've accepted it," he guesses and the girl squeaks in excitement, nodding.

"I've only got to finish this year but they said they're waiting for me!"

"That's amazing!" Phil says, a full smile on his face now. He hugs Caith again and Dan looks down at his feet, a feeling of 'I don't belong here' soaking through his body. The way they talk and seem to be comfortable around each other makes him believe they're close, or at least used to be _really_ close.

Dan shifts his weight from one foot to another, scratching at the back of his neck. The movement makes both Phil and Caith turn around and face him and the brown-haired blushes, two set of eyes causing him to fidget nervously.

"Hi," he says at last, swearing at his awkwardness. He feels like the scene only misses crickets and an audience to laugh at him to become a sitcom. He'd make a good living out of all the times he fails at social conversations, Dan decides, if someone bothered to film them. Nah, he not only would have a good life, he would become a _billionaire_.

"Hi again!" Caith smiles at him. "My name's Caithlynn, but you can call me Caith!"

"Hi Caith," he says, waving awkwardly, his voice strained. Redness on his cheeks only deepens and Dan wants nothing in this moment, but to move on. Oh, maybe after first hiding in a cave on some abandoned island for like, hundred years? Yes, that would be _sweet._

"Figuring this dope over here," she points over at Phil who makes an innocent face, "forgot to even tell what my name is, I can safely say he didn't tell you what are we gonna do today, right?"

"Oh, don't be all snarky right away, Caith," Phil breaks in, a playful tone to his words.

The girl only rolls her eyes, "Anyways, if Phil didn't consider a good idea informing you that we're gonna pick clothes for you, then you're informed now!" she throws one nasty glance more at Phil and Dan laughs at the faked hurt on Phil's face.

Dan relaxes slightly at Caithlyn's friendly attitude. After expecting to be receiving bitchfaces and looks of jealousy from her, Dan feels like a big pressure has disappeared from his body, earlier squeezing the air out of his lungs and making his stomach drop, now finally letting him breathe normally as he knows he's not an enemy in the girl's eyes.

"Well, he did tell me something, but not much," he agrees, giving her a small smile.

"I thought you stopped with the secrets, Phil," Caith says, playfully but looking at Phil, some hidden message within her words.

Dan's eyebrows raise as the sense of the sentence reaches his ears and he casts a questionable look at Phil, who just stares down at the ground, avoiding his eyes. There's seemingly more to this. If this was just a normal jibe, Phil's face definitely wouldn't scrunch in pain and his muscles wouldn't tense. Caith's words are an allusion to something Dan doesn't understand and maybe doesn't exactly want to.

Things which are buried deep because they hurt too much to stay on the surface. Dan knows something about it and he bites on his bottom lip, understanding the way Phil's posture slouches relatively invisibly, but not to his eye.

Caith seems to smell the sudden tension between the boys as she speaks again, keeping her voice positive and encouraging,

"Let's go to my place," she prompts and leads them out the tube right away. "I've talked with Milly," she says, setting the pace quick as they walk into the sunlight.

One glance at Phil is enough to tell Dan something about Phil doesn't feel right. Like there's some small element right in front of his eyes, and he can't see it, no matter how oblivious is it.

He turns his head away from the black-haired, his lips set in a thin line. Dan makes a mental note to talk with Phil about whatever it is, but it only reminds him of the pile of his own lies which he keeps feeding Phil within. He looks down at his moving feet before he turns his focus on the girl again.

"She let me take some of the clothes they keep in their Art wardrobe for the models. Of course, on condition that they're in one piece when I return them." Caith peers at him, "But you're not gonna shoot any dangerous photos, are you?" Dan opens his mouth to assure her 'no, they don't have it in plans', but the girl continues on, "I've only chosen the ones which would most probably fit you based on what Phil told me, but I think I did pretty good," she smiles to him, a smile holding more of consolation than pride at her achievement.

Dan shoots her a questioning glance but Caith only shakes her head. Dan looks over at Phil, now deep in his thoughts and Dan unconsciously bits on his bottom lip, wondering what happened in Phil's past. Anything it was, it couldn't be good.

* * *

"Make yourself at home!" Caith says as she turns the key in the lock. She opens the door and Dan and Phil follow, Dan stopping in the hall, standing uncomfortably by the door. The blonde disappears behind the door, raising her voice just to be heard, "Phil, take care of my guest, please!"

The order seems to wake Phil up from his train of thoughts and the boy nods, taking off his coat and asking for Dan's jacket. He passes it to Phil mechanically, a little overwhelmed with what's going on.

He still can't decipher if there's _anything_ he should be worried about. Which makes him more worried.

Phil sets both their outer garments on hook and Dan reaches for his hand unconsciously, the need to make sure the photographer is okay a strong one,

"Phil?" he only gets to say but the black-haired jumps up like he'd been electrocuted. Dan's forehead wrinkles as he lays his hand on Phil's shoulder gently, "Are you okay?"

Phil's mouth opens and closes a few times, like a fish taken out of the water, before his lips turn into a tight line. He merely nods a few times.

Dan swallows the tightness in his throat as he notices the amount of pain hiding behind Phil's blue eyes.

"There's not much, but it should be enough," comes from his right and he looks over at Caith who's setting the clothes on a wooden table in a straight line. She doesn't look at them, pretends not to sense the tense atmosphere around the two, but not being nosey about it at the same time. She lays down last of the clothing and humming, she makes her way over to, most probably, kitchen, as she asks,

"You boys want something?"

Dan responds with "I'm fine" as a sound of a kettle turned on, a clink of glass and cabinet opening fills the whole flat. Dan turns to look at Phil once again.

"Phil-" he begins, his voice full of worry.

"Yes."

The word isn't even a question, it's a statement and Dan stutters out puzzled, blinking rapidly at the black-haired,

"W-what?"

"Yes, I'm _fine_ , Daniel," Phil explains, nearly spitting the word 'fine' as if it burnt his tongue. The full name he uses makes Dan back away, throwing him off balance.

When he regains enough senses to think and catch on that _something_ is visibly _wrong_ , he stutters out, his voice shaky,

"Phil, what is going on?" he demands. Nearly. Because as much as he wants to feel like he deserves to know the truth, being the one who doesn't give one, lessens his self-certainty and his voice grows shakier than he planned.

"Nothing," Phil's voice comes out so calm and steady it's like Dan's panicked body met with a concrete wall. But a scratch like that can sometimes only make a person more furious.

"Phil..." he keeps a dangerous low to his tone as he desperately searches for Phil's eyes.

Finally, the blue orbits find the brown ones and Dan and Phil fix gazes for a brief moment. So brief that Dan wouldn't be entirely sure they did if not for the hurt he discovers in Phil's gaze.

The black-haired tries to appear strong, happy, but something in him is broken and Dan sees it. Phil can't hide it from him. Not anymore.

"Phil..." he repeats once again, this time softly and his voice does break at the end. And he doesn't care because in that moment, he can see- no, he can _feel_ the fragility coming from the boy in front of him, and he wants to do nothing but help him.

"Phil-"

"Later," he throws, not meeting his eyes as he looks to the side. "Later, we'll talk. It's not the right time and place for this, don't you think?" Dan stares at him in disbelief and slowly building-up anger and at least hundred ideas on how to break it to him that, _yes, Phil, this is as good time to talk as any other._

But Caith walks into the room then, and Dan shuts his mouth as he catches her worried expression. No need to make a scene in front of her.

He nods understandingly and Phil's look doesn't soften even a bit, as he grabs his coat, stepping through the door. His voice is cold, lacking any kind of warm emotion or emotion at all,

"I'll be back in a while, start without me."

The doors are closed quietly, but Phil's aura tells Dan that if it wasn't Caith's flat, the door would be probably hanging at its hinges now, or be kicked out at least.

* * *

 ** _Only one and then epilogue left! ;)_**

 ** _I'll try to update tomorrow but we'll see how it goes :D_**

 ** _Thanks for reading. If you comment, know you made me smile like crazy at least once._**


	16. Chapter 16

Phil doesn't come back.

Well, not at first at least. He comes in through the door just when he and Caith finish picking up a few sets of clothes for him.

The black-haired looks calm, almost too calm. His eyes aren't panicky, his voice doesn't come out strangled. In fact, it's as if the person Dan talked to just minutes ago was an entirely different human being, a person he doesn't know at all.

Now Phil's nothing like the person he looked like. It sends a shiver down Dan's spine as he thinks there's a part of Phil that the man carefully hides from him. But then, it's not like he himself is any better. Doing the same thing, if even worse as there's a whole lot of basic lies he gives Phil. Phil, the person who of all people, Dan should trust if they've decided they should give their emotions a try.

And any kind of relation is built on trust, so what will that make them? Two people wearing masquerade masks and hiding everything away from each other, tucking their secrets deep so nothing potentially bad will come up? Dan's never been in a long lasting relationship but he's pretty sure nothing good, or nothing _healthy_ , to say the least, can turn out from a situation like they have.

Phil doesn't take off his coat, as if they are going to leave soon after all. He smiles, somewhat a fake motion but a well faked one, and yes, before he speaks Dan knows already deep inside that they're, in fact, leaving and that whatever happened earlier will be either never spoken about or just shoved neatly under a rug.

And as he watches Phil carefully, he ultimately notices those details he's missed earlier. Stupid little details, as the fact that Phil's eyes are just slightly too red and puffy for someone to believe his smile is also reflected in his eyes. Or that he balls his fists in his pockets just a little bit too tightly for it to look natural.

"Hi, you chose something for Dan?" he asks Caith, voice warm and positive and it's nearly enough for Dan to believe all the tension between them was in his head and the unspoken secrets never leaked.

Did they even fight or was it all only made up in his mind? Is he going crazy, the lies finally blending in with the reality? Maybe he is just losing it? Hell, even spies on a secret missions sometimes stop being able to tell what's real and what's not. Maybe he's become one of them?

Caith says something about how everything looked good on him and he would blush if the words didn't come to him from under a wall. She makes a remark on how he makes her wanna change her orientation and it's only a brief, fleeting thought of _Oh God, I wouldn't suspect Caith is..._ and Phil's short, forced laugh for him to snap back into now and present.

No, he's here, now, in Caith's apartment. And Phil's laughing and maybe it's forced but maybe forced is the only way they can go? Dan shouldn't be surprised to find someone else living the way he does, but he still is, because why, of all people in the world, it's Phil? Phil, the innocent guy who can't catch a joke if there's some subtext to it, Phil who actually wanted to call an ambulance only because he slipped and fell into a fountain? There's something definitely wrong with the universe because, why the heck Phil?

"Thank you so much, Caith, I owe you," Phil says, shaking the girl's hand. Again, forced. Faked. Theatrical. Those few words are almost enough to describe his life, _Phil's life too_ , probably, as he thinks about it now.

Caith grins at him, "Wouldn't be the first and the last time, Lester," and winks at him. "I'm glad I could help you guys. Just don't get me in trouble for damaging them. They're the class's possession. And believe me, you wouldn't want to piss off twenty Art students."

They exchange goodbyes and Dan quickly puts on his jacket. As Caith pulls Dan in for a tight hug, she whispers into his ear, careful for Phil not to notice,

"It's a tough subject so don't expect him to speak up first."

He nods at her and she smiles weakly, but generously and Dan braces himself for a storm as Caith's door clicks close behind them. A much more polite way than Dan would ask, but full with disbelief, Phil questioning him about _'what the fuck do you think you're doing Dan, I don't have to confess to you'._ Dan has no idea, hit him maybe, shake him, anything that would show Dan how much he doesn't deserve to ask questions.

Nothing like this comes, though. Phil only hauls him into the elevator and he informs him quietly that they're going to his flat to see if they can do anything with the clothes Caith lent them. Dan says nothing, not feeling up for a harsh exchange of words between them. Not here, at least, in such a tiny proximity and with so small privacy. A teen enters their elevator at second floor and silence falls over them.

* * *

A harsh and indelicate, _What the actual fuck, Phil?!_ wants to make its way from his mouth but Dan bites down on his tongue hard, so hard he tastes blood. Because even though he wants to know the truth about what's bothering the man in front of him, he says nothing as they enter Phil's room. He follows silently, not speaking as they step into the lounge, so grey, so sad and matching the tension between them.

Phil sighs, rubbing his face tiredly, a motion saying so small, yet so much. And Dan sees it, he sees it in Phil's quivering form, in his hunched shoulders, almost as if he is holding back a sob.

Phil is broken. He's broken in so many ways that Dan's so familiar with, and yet he tries to put up a barrier.

 _Like that would make any change,_ he thinks sadly as he stares at the black-haired. But then a sudden realisation strikes him. It's in the grey walls and Phil's so often overhappy attitude. As if he tries to make up for all the sadness that has separate room in his heart.

Dan shakes his head, trying to drop the nagging thought, attempting to explain that his brain is coming up with absolutely bizarre and crazy thoughts and, oh God, he can't be right after all. No, final, it just can't be.

"Did you pick anything at Caith's?" Phil's voice comes out so small, so unharmful that Dan feels guilty for ever wanting to shout at him. The black-haired tosses his bag on the floor near the sofa, the motion so messy, so not _Phil's_. He sits down, running a hand through his hair and Dan's brain only shouts at him that it's right, that once in its lifetime it discovered something and it's damn right this time, not unlike dozens of others. But Dan muffles it out, not really liking the thought, _the observation._

Phil meets his gaze for a fleeting moment and Dan quickly mumbles,

"Yeah, we did, she's- you have a really great friend," he says, his voice breaking at the end and he swears at himself for it.

He can't be right, _his brain_ can't be right. There's nothing more stable in Dan's life than that perfect doesn't exist but fuck it, Phil's the best example that it does. He can't be- Phil cannot be _not perfect._

Dan looks down at his hands, feeling like a fool for the thoughts running through his mind. He should know. He should be aware there's nothing like a happy family caught on a photograph. There are only happy moments, those quick, fleeting memories of when everything's perfect. And behind this every description of perfect lays the true truth. The reality.

And he should know that, he shouldn't judge Phil only by his looks, by what's _outside_ , yet he did and he feels, least to say, stupid.

Dan spares a glance at Phil. He's not talking. Well, that was predictable. Dan's not the most honest person either. But it's Phil, godamnit, Phil, the sunshine, Phil, the person who's able to make plants grow around him only with his stupid half-smile. It's not Dan, the shady person with a hoodie with even shadier secrets and friends. It's not Dan, god-fucking-damnit, whose name a stranger shouldn't be even sure about.

As the silence settles between them, Dan can't stop fidgeting under its pressure, feeling as though it's a deadly rope, closing in around his throat. He's choking, losing breath but only in his own imaginary feeling.

Phil lets out a deep breath all of a sudden and Dan nearly passes out from all the tension. He breathes out too, not realising holding his breath. As if Phil's action gave him a silent permission, Dan steps to the sofa and takes a seat next to the black-haired.

He tries to be gentle, but, fuck, how? He only knows how to settle down a teenage girl when she wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare or when he has to convince his Natalie everything's going to be alright, no, no one will take her away from him, they're so well-hidden that even Interpol wouldn't be able to pick up their trace.

But how do you give comfort to a twenty-one year-old man when all you know is that the subject is specifically hard and the only tip you were given is to walk on eggshells?

Dan leans closer, trying to make the other to look at him,

"Phil-"

"We fought."

 _Oh, so we're finally getting somewhere,_ Dan thinks victoriously but his smile fades as soon as the next words hit him.

"She was drunk and she-" Phil gasps, taking in a deep breath. Dan asks him what's wrong and assures he really doesn't have to say anything, but the man only shakes his head at him, determined to go on.

"She was sick of me. Called to make sure I knew that," he says, a bitter tone to his words as his face scrunches in pain at the memory. "She told me I didn't give her the attention she needed so she-" he cuts suddenly, looking down at his hands and Dan swallows heavily because it's so much already. Phil's giving him so much information and Dan's brain is screaming at him, laughing that it's right and he realises Phil gives him something Dan isn't sure he'll ever be able to give; a full, unconditional trust.

"She told me about her secret lover and I was still trying to convince her people make mistakes," Phil rubs at his watering eyes and Dan gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as if he could say, _It's over, Phil, you're here with me now._

Phil turns his eyes to him and they fix gazes and Phil smiles, fucking smiles with this honest half-smile like he knows, like he knows what Dan's just trying to tell him.

"We were on the phone when she suddenly decided she wanted to be back home," he continues but breaks the eye contact. "I got there as soon as I only could, I offered to give her a ride but," he swallows hard and Dan rubs comforting circles on his back, knowing from experience it always helps Natalie when she gets something close to a panic attack. Phil's muscles relax a bit and Dan calls it a win.

"She insisted on driving alone, I thought I'd be able to convince her not to so I got into the car with her, but-" he runs a hand through his hair, nervously as if he was reliving those moments again. "She didn't listen to me at all. She started screaming, she was so furious! I told her to stop the car, I was sure we could work it out, oh God, I was in such blind love," Phil almost spits it out, disgusted and it makes him sound like he regrets it deeply.

Dan's heart physically hurts at the imagination that Phil, his sweet Phil was hurt by someone and someone used his feelings to cause even more hurt to him just because he could.

Phil glances at him, only to look down at his hands again, like he's embarrassed by the words spilling from his so easily,

"She kept screaming at me; that it was all my fault, that I wasn't good enough for her, that it was me who caused this, that I was the one responsible for her cheating," he takes in a breath and closes his eyes, like he wants to brace himself for something even worse to come out from his mouth.

Dan squeezes Phil's hand in response, not caring when they even linked hands in the first place.

"It was raining heavily. A dog. It showed up out of nowhere on the road-" Phil's voice breaks, his bottom lip quivering.

Phil's knuckles are white, squeezing Dan's hand tightly but the brunet pays no attention to that. He swallows the lump in his throat as he whispers, his voice and nerves on edge,

"Did she-?" he doesn't get to finish his sentence, not daring to.

Phil turns his head and meets his blank gaze with Dan's and he shakes his head slowly as if only now he realised what he was asked about. Dan almost lets out a relieved breath if the overall situation didn't seem so bad.

"We had an accident," Phil confirms and Dan doesn't say anything, only touches the other's hand gently. Phil flinches and stares at it for a second before he locks eyes with the brunet as Dan rubs his hand, a motion he knows brings consolation. Phil smiles at him as if he says _It's alright, Dan._

Dan searches in his blue orbits the affirmation that yes, Phil's alright, but all he's able to find is that _it's_ alright because Phil resigned himself with it and accepted what happened.

They break contact again and Dan has never felt in so much need to look into somebody's eyes,

"The authorities found alcohol in her blood. We went to the court," he explains. "But she- she pushed all the blame on me. Before the cops got there, she convinced me she couldn't go to jail and that I ruined her life and," Phil stops, seemingly unable to go on and Dan gulps heavily.

"You didn't..." he mumbles and when Phil doesn't meet his nagging gaze, he lets out a choked breath, "Oh God..."

He was about sure what to expect next. But it still took his breath away to actually _hear_ it,

"We switched places and I took the blame for the accident."

Dan feels that it's his moment to speak up, to say something, _anything_ , but he's in so much shock, all he mutters out is a broken,

"Phil, I didn't know..."

"I know, Dan," he assures him softly and it's like Dan's the one who's being comforted, like he's the broken one.

Dan sniffs, holding back the tears behind his eyes. He lets out one deep breath and, not being able to refrain himself, brings Phil close to himself, closing him in a tight hug. He rubs circles on his back and whispers sweet nothings like it matters if he says anything. Dan knows he can't change the past and there's nothing like rewind button, but oh God, how much would he give to be able to give one to Phil?

The man, the sweetest person he knows, doesn't deserve anything what life put on him. Yet, it did. Life gave him one huge kick in the ass, and that said, it was given by someone really close, someone who he should be able to trust and rely on.

"Phil, I just," he starts but Phil cuts him off.

"It's okay, Dan, it's fine now," his voice doesn't sound fine though, the whole story doesn't sound fine. How that bitch could even dare to do that to another human being? To Phil?!

"No, Phil, fuck," he swears, feeling hot tears leaking from his eyes. He pulls away from Phil, but doesn't let him go. Looking at the black-haired from such distance will always make him flustered, but there's something unique about being in such close proximity to another person. Something magical, Dan says to himself.

You can finally think clearly, you can see all the signs you've missed earlier.

That little yellow spot in Phil's blue eyes? Ha, thought his eyes were straight blue? And the way he scrunches his eyes when he laughs, just a little? His reddish lips, parted slightly, as he inspects something? There are various little signs it's just impossible to see from distance.

 _Perspective, it's always perspective_ , Dan thinks.

From a stranger's point of view Phil's attitude may seem stupid, even naive. But as Dan thinks about it, he can well understand Phil. He's done many things only to protect his sister, hell, he's doing them all the time! And he's sure he will do many more of those stupid things, if they mean Natalie is fine and protected.

"You didn't deserve that, Phil," Dan mutters, pressing their foreheads together. "You didn't deserve that, you understand me, Phil?" he insists and Phil nods slightly.

He can't let Phil think he's done anything wrong. If anything, it's all that bitch's fault. How could you hurt someone so close to you? Dan has no idea, but for the girl's sake he prays she never meets him on her way.

"That girl," he witholds himself from calling her more rightful names not to scare Phil, "she's bad," he explains simply, like to a five year-old. Gosh, how many more appropriate ways of describing her behavior are bundled in his head? More than there are stars on the darkest night, that's for sure.

" _She_ didn't deserve you. She's the one who fucked up. Not you, Phil. That-" he bites his tongue and takes in a deep breath to calm down a little. "That _person_ ," he growls, the name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, "manipulated you, played with your emotions. She used the fact that you couldn't stop loving her to get some pluses from the situation. You did nothing wrong and it wasn't your fault you didn't notice her true intentions."

Phil nods, this time more surely.

"I don't know who does that to another person, but she definitely wasn't worth you. You deserve so much better, Phil," he says sadly, looking into Phil's blue eyes, adding _Much more than I'm able to give you_ in his mind.

Phil nods once again, his eyes filled with tears and his bottom lip trembles dangerously with a prediction of flood of emotions to come. He stares at the brunet for a second before he launches himself into Dan, squeezing the air out of him and leaving him breathless. Dan gasps in surprise but soon leans into the warmth of Phil's body and relaxes into it.

Phil mumbles 'thank you' into his shirt and Dan feels such a warm feeling tingling in his heart that he wants to say the 'L' word. He stops himself though, just in the last moment, biting hard on his tongue, lips set in a thin line. Nodding with understanding, he places a little kiss on Phil's forehead as he assures him it's going to be alright.

And his brain is screaming at him, laughing its ass off at the ridicolous situation. And he can nearly hear now how it chokes on air because damn, it was right in the end.

He and Phil have more in common than they could both admit to. Phil, as much as Dan, has some past, a past which he doesn't feel like sharing with the world, at least not with someone he doesn't trust. Which by the way, recalls Dan that _Phil trusts him_. And the realisation would belong to nice ones only if it wasn't a constant reminder of his own past, tucked well away from anyone's eyes.

And fuck, because Dan doesn't want to agree with his own brain. He doesn't want to admit that Phil's life isn't all sweets and rainbows after all. So he is a jerk. Dan's a fucking jerk, but more, he's scared. He's freaking frightened of the trust Phil seems to give him and all the differences between them, the differences which are only imaginary. Because the wealth doesn't matter, it makes no difference that Dan's broke as hell, makes no difference that Phil's parents are well-known in the whole city and Dan has barely a father whom he's on a run away from.

All those material variations, statuses, backgrounds, they have no big power because, it hurts to say as it's the same as admitting his brain is right, but no one gets to know a person truly if they don't know them, their opinions, feelings. And damn, but Phil, his character, although so extremely different, is so close to Dan and his heart that Dan would be lying if he said there's nothing similar between him and Phil.

"I'm glad I know you," says Phil, as he looks at Dan and they hug again, finding comfort in each other's arms. Dan only distantly hears some little part of his brain muttering, _I'm interested for how long._ And he has to shut it, because if Phil can come off clean to him and be all honest, maybe Dan can do it too?

It can't be that hard after all, right? Dan would have only to tell a few things he should have right from the start and everything would be safe and sound between them. Phil would know and Phil would understand because who else if not his Phil? Phil, who knows how hard it is to live with a tucked away feelings and past.

And then, they could be together, with no lies hidden from the other's sight. Phil would meet Natalie. The girl would be probably in love with him and his photographs. Probably would bore him to death too with her infinite pleads to take photos of her or puppies. They could have a little family, Natalie being their little kid.

Damn, even Michael wouldn't be such pain in the ass for him. No matter how life would turn out for them, they would have each other and would find the other in the dark. He could talk to Phil and Phil would listen to him and he would assure him that nothing mattered as long as they were together.

Dan glances at Phil, opening his mouth to speak, but finds himself only catching air. He looks down, at their linked hands, the reminder of the trust Dan was given and he tries to form a sentence in his head. Nothing clear comes though and he shakes his head, attempting to clear it off the messy thoughts which created there,

"Phil, I-" he begins and his stomach makes a flip flop, the fear of trusting the wrong person rising again. He shrugs it off mentally and licks his lips, trying to find the right words, "Phil, there's something I just gotta tell you," he mumbles out, barely audibly and Phil scrunches his eyebrows questioningly.

"What? What did you say?"

God, why confessions are always so hard?

Dan smiles at Phil, mostly to reassure himself he's doing the right thing. And his voice shakes and trembles and his hand is quivering as he runs it through his hair and opens his mouth and speaks.

"I- Phil- I gotta tell you this, it's-

Phil observes him carefully, studying him with those amazing blue eyes and just then, thanks for the timing, the bell rings. Dan finds himself panicking when Phil assures him they'll continue their talk again as he leaves the room.

The brunet takes in frantic breaths as he's suddenly torn apart between leaving all his secrets to himself and forgetting in hell rules he himself made of never including anyone else into his mess. Dan can't decide whether he should tell Phil truth about his life or just leave things as they are. Shaking his head, silent tears make their way down his face. He feels like he can't lose another person just because he kept the truth from them, but he also can't lose another person just because his past is shady, either.

What should he do? Gosh, how much he misses being just a kid, not caring about anything in the world besides doing homework and not staying up after curfew.

Just then, Phil walks into the room and he rushes quickly to his side, probably spotting the wet trail of tears on his face. He asks Dan what's wrong, a question to which Dan doesn't have any simple answer and he only shakes his head as he sobs into Phil's shirt, hopeless as to what he should do.

So he sticks with what he always does.

And maybe his answer seems idiotical and Phil smells the lie but he only gives him a smile. Forced. Faked. Theatrical. Those few words are definitely enough to describe Dan's life. And Phil pulls him in for a hug and Dan assures he's fine and maybe it's forced but maybe forced is the only way he can go?

* * *

 ** _Sorry I took so long, we've been busy with baking for xmas and then I was too exhausted to post and open up my laptop o.o_**

 ** _Only an epilogue left, guyss! :D Thank you for all the suppoort, you're amazing!_**


	17. Epilogue

**_Coming up next._..**

Crossing the green park to save some distance, the tall man swears as the package slips from between his fingers and he has to stop to pick it up. He kneels and takes the brown packet into his hands, just about to check if it's not damaged when he hears some commotion from his left.

His brows knit as he walks up closer to the source of it.

A tall boy is standing on the edge of the fountain, seemingly posing to an encouraging him photographer. The man can't make out the face of the photographer though. Sun blinds him as he walks over to the small crowd that gathered around the two.

"Hey, you know what is going over here?" he asks a group of teenagers, whose eyes are all drawn to the fountain or rather some brown haired boy.

None of them even raises their heads at his voice, everyone finding interest in the two men,

"Man, it's some kind of rad session over there," a scrawny looking teenager answers him, a girl in a plaid shirt and big glasses next to him nodding eagerly as he speaks.

The man cocks an eyebrow and stares at the fountain. If anything, the session is provisional and unplanned. He can see no light modifiers and no hairstylist or visagiste. The scenery wasn't prepared too. Having strangers around you working can be pain in the ass most of the time.

The session, if he even was to call it 'a session', more like some teens' having fun after getting their first reflex camera, could be hardly shot by anyone professionaly doing photography. Not with such lack of everything.

The man turns around to walk away when the air is cut with a sudden sound of splash followed by a loud shriek,

"Oh my God, Dan! Are you alright?!"

The man spins around on his heels right away as if his head was binded with an invisbible line. He stands on the side of the group, but no one really pays attention to a man dressed in an elegant coat. Everyone is interested in what's going on so why would anyone even spare him a glance?

He smirks, looking at Phil, the Phil who has dominance over him in the class and always harvests same firsts.

 _But not for much longer_ , he speaks to himself, staring attentively as the black haired jumps around his soaked model.

The brown haired has a really rare look. There are tattoos drawn on his arms and the man crosses his eyebrows as he wonders where is their makeup artist as he'd like to get their number for painting such realistic tattoos. The man squints his eyes, trying to make out what they decided to put on the model's arms when he realises the tattoos aren't fake nor drawn for the sake of the session. They're real.

He quickly remembers all the models he's seen from the universities around who pose from time to time and own tattoos but as he stares at the boy once again, he finds himself surprisingly not recalling such a man.

Inspecting the boy closer, he notices his pierced lip, a cheap band t-shirt and black shredded skinny jeans. Phil quickly takes off his coat, wrapping it around the brunet's broad shoulders. The boy is shaking a lot but what is the most concerning on the man's mind is that he doesn't remember the model from any of the agencies or universities he knows Phil usually takes models from. And if so, does that mean the boy comes from somewhere new he didn't take notice Phil of using yet or is he just his friend?

He has to find out, he decides. Phil is his enemy number one, the biggest and only person who can endanger him in winning the contest and getting the superiority in New York.

 _Dan, dear Dan,_ he adds in his mind, a smug smile blooming on his face, _you're gonna help me to win this contest. Whenever this be with your will, or not._

* * *

 _ **Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed this little world I created!**_

 _ **Obviously, the story doesn't end here :)**_

 _ **I'm in the process of planning &writing part two of Love Through A Lens. I'm super excited about starting working on it and publishing it because I plan for new/old characters to step in and bring some fresh light on how things are. You'll also get to see if Dan and Phil's deal works out, if Kev gets married, Dan as his bestman, if Phil wins the superiority and much more! :D**_

 _ **As the story is in progress just now, feel free to give me a little prompt of yours.**_

 _ **Would you like to see something in part two, a concrete scene, dig into one of the character's backstories a bit? Let me know! I will definitely take every one of your ideas into account and consider them! :)**_

 _ **Tumblr/Twitter: superasia8**_

 _ **If you want to know when the second part of Love Through A Lens comes out, you can subscribe to me here on fanfiction, or follow me on Tumblr, or stalk me in some other way! :3**_

 _ **Love you, guys! *throws hearts at you***_


	18. Prologue

_**Big thanks to caustichowell from Tumblr who agreed to beta and fix the bad moments :D She helped a lot and thanks to her you guys won't read all the typos that sneaked in.**_

* * *

The light flickered. Sterile cleanliness of the hallway and the odour that hung heavily in the air gave the impression of an uneasy feeling. A feeling of death.

The walls were a sick colour of white, mixed with pale yellow. White doors on each side of the hallway and doorplates hung next to each entrance, only adding strength to the grim aura of the place.

"Where is he?!" someone demanded, almost commanding, from the abyss of the hallway.

A tall brunet came into view, from the void that remained unreachable for the light to shine and strip it of its secrets. The man had dark hair, cut in a neat fashion, but in need of trimming. With his tanned face and almond shaped brown eyes, he couldn't have been more than fifty, though the weariness he wore on his face like second skin could trick many.

Two police officers rose from their seats in an instant, one chair squeaking on the polished floor. Both seemed alert as the newcomer strode quickly toward them. Posture unyielding and stare firm, as if challenging any of the two to speak, the man barked, "Where is my son?"

His gaze kept flicking between the officers, the man's features hard, lips barely a tight line but gaze attentive and ready to catch any clues the officers' faces held.

"Please, calm down, sir," the lanky of the two said, palms splayed out in a gesture of comfort. "Officer Brand is on his way already, he'll be here in a while."

The brunet closed his eyes tightly as he let out a long breath.

"Can't. You. Let. Me. In. _Now_?", he asked through gritted teeth, his annoyance reaching its limit as the officer only shook his head apologetically. The man stopped himself from making any remarks and sat down in the chair, his knee bobbing up and down.

The officers shared a meaningful look but the brunet paid no attention to them. He continued staring ahead, fists balling but fingers shaking as he unclenched them.

Another set of footsteps cut the silence and the man sprung to his feet, reluctantly waiting.

There was no haste or sluggishness in the newcomer's movements. He put one foot in front of another in a precise way, walked with his head up and chest pushed out. As he stopped beside the men, he nodded toward the two officers who visibly relaxed now that their superior was nearby.

"James, you're not scaring my people again, are you?", he said to the brunet, a slight smile accompanyinghis words. "Harrison, Bribe, I'm sure you've got some paper work at the station to do." It was a clear order and as one man nodded and turned to go, the lanky one stepped a little closer.

"Are you sure, sir? We can still assist you if-"

"Oh, that was not a request. Or do you want me to share a word with your superior, Bribe? How would he react knowing you put under question _my_ orders?"

Brand fixed his gaze with the younger officer who gulped heavily at the unspoken threat. He stammered, possibly thinking of what to say but at last he decided against it. Turning on his heel, he quickly walked away. His footsteps echoed in the hallway for a while even after his departure.

Brand turned to the man, and his previously hardened features softened as he studied him.

"I got your message," he spoke after a minute, observing the brunet.

"They told me-" the man paused and took a shuddering breath. Brand put a hand on his shoulder, a reassuring weight and a reminder he wasn't alone.

"I know," the officer murmured. "Listen, it doesn't have to be him, but don't get your hopes too high, okay, James?" he watched as the brunet nodded, adjusting the cuffs on his blue shirt.

"Do you need some time or...?" Brand trailed off and the man let out a bitter laugh.

"I've been waiting for around two years, Henry," he pointed out quietly, his broad frame seeming smaller as his posture slouched.

"I know, but this still may be hard for you..."

A grimace passed over the man's features, "Haven't we gone through that already, though?" he asked rhetorically, not waiting for an answer nor expecting for the officer to give him one.

It would be hard not to notice that a mass of emotions was hiding behind his flat but strained voice. James took one last breath in and out before he spoke,

"Lead the way, Henry."

The officer scrutinised the man, looking out for any detail, single sign that would tell him what had been going through the brunet's mind. Analysing his behavior once again, but coming up with nothing, Brand nodded.

He led the brunet through heavy metal doors. They closed behind them with a loud clank. The sign near the entrance read,

 _'The Mortuary'._

* * *

 _ **Chapter one of the second part will be posted later today or tomorrow as a part of a separate story. I think it will work better that way. I don't want the first and the second part to blend together as the first was written for PBB and this isn't.**_

 _ **Let me know what you think of this, it helps a lot because I always have doubts about my writing and it's lovely to see your reactions!**_

 _ **Hope you enjoyed!**_

 _ **Knock on my Tumblr and say hi: superasia8**_


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